


this side of the rotting pizza

by seaofolives



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake Science, Final Fantasy VII Remake, Final Fantasy VII Remake Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Original Character(s), POV Ignis Scientia, Porn Video, Prostitution, References to Drugs, Sex Toys, Sexual Assault, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Harassment, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 149,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofolives/pseuds/seaofolives
Summary: Ignis Scientia is a stressed junior manager working for the Urban Planning Division of the Shinra Electric Power Company. One day, his intern Prompto Argentum invites him to watch a show in the Honeybee Inn where he gets to meet a mysterious Honeyboy named Gladio.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 54
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> last chance to turn back in case you haven't played ff7r yet! also on that note, i'm probably going to be blending details from the og ff7 bc i've played it countless times and remember it more than the remake so be forewarned, too??

“Right, weʼre being kicked out of the room so weʼll adjourn for tonight. Iʼll set up separate meetings for the restoration, budget and energy teams tomorrow. Thanks everyone for your hard work.”

In brighter days (which was a funny thing to say for someone who worked in an electric company), everyone would be sending everyone off with a round of applause which was a directive from their division leader. It was important for him, he said, that everyone understood the weight of their contributions and was appreciated for it. Used to be, it made meetings with the director himself lighter. 

Since the attack on the No. 1 Reactor, though, there was hardly even a smattering of hands when they pushed their seats back and hauled their asses off it, up in their feet. The general chorus was now replaced by a mixture of mumbled responses, groaning, yawning, and other sounds that complimented the mood. 

For himself, he chose silence as he rubbed his eyes under his glasses, then swooped up to his feet to collect his laptop, his phone, other documents and colorful brochures heʼd brought to the meeting. He nodded to the director waving everyone goodnight from where he sat at the head of the table. 

“Oh, Ignis!”

Ignis had been about to evacuate the room himself until the director had stopped him. He turned sharply round his heels, kept his shoulders square despite the weariness that rode them down and gave a smart bow as he responded, “Director Reeve.” _Director Tuesti_ was for new hires who werenʼt yet familiar with their division head. Ignis had been around long enough to be made project manager with a team of one—him. He had countless rounds of reorganization to thank for this. 

“Thanks very much for volunteering to spearhead the recycling initiative for Sector 1,” Reeve said. He gestured to him. “I read your proposal. I think itʼs a good idea to involve the undercity residents and give them another source of livelihood.” The undercity—otherwise known as the fragrant word for the slums. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Ignis dipped his head again. At any other time, he might have harbored a secret smile to be given praise by the director himself but…yes, at any other time. 

“Do you really think this could work, though?” Reeve rested his elbows on the edge of the table, putting a hand over his fist. “I mean, do you really think this could be sustainable for the future?”

“Thereʼs nothing unsustainable about recycling, Sir,” Ignis responded in the same beat as the director. He inched back his glasses. “And the proof must be in the pudding. The key to a successful program is a good reception of the prototype. And if we can show the other sectors that we are willing to bend the initiative to suit their needs, then I am confident we can make something out of this. Everyone just wants a chance at a better life, Sir. You and I are no different from them.” When he was still starting out, he kept his ears peeled for any sort of tricks that could accelerate his career in the division. And one of them, he observed, was making it obvious that they had the welfare of the upper and lower citizens of Midgar in mind as they did their work. 

That was, perhaps, the easiest part of the job. After all, Ignis only needed to be honest about the plight he and his neighbors faced every day of their lives. When Reeve nodded, it was clear that he had taken to his point easily. “You’re right, of course,” he added to it. “Good job as always, Ignis.” He flashed him a smile which struggled to maintain its cheer despite the weight of his eyebags. Ignis bowed again. “Iʼll add this to my own proposal before I send it off to the President. Unfortunately, that means weʼll be waiting a little longer than usual for a decision. Following the terrorist attack on the No. 1 Reactor, all executive and financial decisions must go through him first.”

“I fully understand, Sir.” It was to be expected, after all. Nothing they could do about it on their level. 

“Right, you can go now.” Reeve waved him off. “Youʼve been working very late these days. Sorry for the trouble.”

Ignis shook his head. “Itʼs all a part of the job, Sir.”

“When this is all over, letʼs talk properly again about your promotion.” A promotion! 

What was it he used to say? Wartime made for swift promotions. Turns out with enough unpaid overtime work, he could benefit from it, too. Ignis couldnʼt keep the cheer from his face when he swung down for a grateful bow to his director. Suddenly, he was awake again. “Iʼm really grateful for this opportunity, Sir,” he promised him. As if he was already promoted. 

By the time heʼd stepped out of the room and nodded to the next group waiting to use it, much of the office had already disappeared. And he would finally be gone from it soon, too; what a day it had been. He passed by a couple of heads bowed over to their keyboards or hung back on their seats for a quick nap on his way to his workstation. 

He had expected it to be empty, but instead there was a young blonde man humming to a song and spinning in his seat. Someone he hadnʼt expected to meet today. “Prompto,” he called him in surprise. Well, at least that meant he had a ride to the train station. 

Prompto whirled at him, breaking his momentum with a foot on the carpet. He was still in his uniform from the Shinra University at Sector 8. And despite the late hour, he still had the energy to beam at him as he flew up to his feet and dipped himself to who he called, “Manager Scientia!” Because of course he would call him that. 

Ignis had learned by now not to bother. “What are you doing here? I thought you had classes?” With his chair freed, though, he could finally go about packing up for the day. 

“I _did_ have classes,” Prompto answered, twirling round his heels so he could park himself on the corner of Ignisʼ loaded desk. “Buuut, I counted out my required hours and saw that I still need to do 120 so I thought Iʼd come in and do some work.” He patted the towering tray of folders behind him. “I sorted out your files from last year in color-coded stickies and clipped the loose papers in, as well.”

“Oh, youʼve done it.” Ignisʼ inspection, however, was only to rifle through the neat pile with his thumb. Heʼll get to it soon. Maybe. Hopefully. 

“Annnd I also finally got in touch with the head engineer of the No. 1 Reactor and he agreed to meet with you on Monday for lunch.” A lunch meeting. Of course. 

Ignis sighed, scratching between his brows. “Well, it canʼt be helped. Thank you, Prompto.” He made sure to put on a smile for the university student. “Youʼve done good work today.” He couldnʼt tell if that was just him or Director Reeve rubbing off on him. 

In any case, Prompto liked that, bowing deeply again with a grin on his face. 

“Was it busy while I was in the meeting?” With his confidential files and laptop locked away, Ignis was finally home free. He gathered the empty cups of coffee littering his desk and carried it with him and his bag. Prompto straightened up, too. 

“Ahh, it was the normal kind of busy, I guess,” he answered, following his manager to the door leading out to the dim and quiet hallway. Ignis dipped his head at the few who were lucid enough to catch him leaving. “But since Iʼm just an intern, no one really bothered with me. Kinda makes me feel guilty, though.” He scratched his head, carefully so that he didnʼt ruin the style. “Like Iʼm just hanging around when everyoneʼs working their butt off.”

“Count your blessings while you can, Prompto,” Ignis chuckled softly. He found a trash bin at the corner and disposed of his waste. “Are you still enjoying yourself here, though?”

“You bet I am!” Promptoʼs head bounced like a ball. “I like that Iʼm not just making coffee for everyone, yʼknow? Kinda makes me wonder what itʼll be like in the weapons division but since my Mom and Dad go home really late, I guess itʼs pretty bad.”

“Is the directress still requiring overtime?”

“Yeah. Gotta make sure thereʼs enough weapons to beat the terrorists, I guess.” Of course. 

Thatʼs where all the money is. “I suppose that must be why your parents insisted to put you in our division. And Noct?” Promptoʼs best friend from high school who heʼd met in several occasions. “How is he?” Ignis walked them to the menʼs room. 

“Bored out of his wits.” When Prompto laughed, Ignis thought he sounded like a cartoon villain. “He says the mayor doesnʼt let him do anything else than arrange the books all day. He doesnʼt even care if Noct just sleeps in the library.”

“That does sound painful,” Ignis sympathized. “Iʼll just use the restroom. I wonʼt be long.”

“Okay,” Prompto chirruped, already waltzing backwards to the vending machines at the corner. “Iʼll just get something to drink!” That was probably his favorite part of his internship, he thought. 

Ignis nodded. He disappeared behind the sleek black doors and went about his business quickly enough. 

When he stepped out, Prompto was still by the vending machine, two cold bottles of coffee in hand, but now in the company of an older gentleman in a sharp blue suit, quite taller than him, with thick silver hair that shined enough to look white. Who was this guy again? Senior Manager… 

“Senior Manager Ferro,” Ignis greeted him, marching a little urgently to his internʼs side to make the necessary introductions and giving the man a respectful bow. “I see the directress has you working late, as well.”

Ferro laughed a little at his observation before he gestured to the both of them. “I see youʼre not so different either. Different division, same problems, eh?”

“Indeed. Prompto,” Ignis turned to him slightly, “this is Senior Manager Ferro from the weapons division.” 

“Weʼve become acquainted,” Ferro told him before he flashed another fatherly smile at Prompto. “I was just telling him that his parents and I are working together in a project. When heʼs free, perhaps he can take a little tour around one of our laboratories to see our work.” He turned to Ignis. “For additional exposure, so to speak. Young, brilliant minds like him are exactly what Shinra Company needs to unlock our full potential! The future we aspire, after all, belongs to them.” 

“Certainly,” Ignis agreed, eyes brushing to the pin of the company logo on the lapel of his jacket. He was a Senior Manager, all right… “Perhaps when we can afford a little breathing space.”

“Of course, work must always come first,” Ferro parroted. “After all, we must do what we can for the future. And speaking of,” he raised a bottle of energy drink, “itʼs time I head back to mine. I only came down here to buy a drink. The vending machine upstairs is broken again.”

“Is it?” Ignis frowned in companionship. “It always breaks down, doesnʼt it?”

“I know, I donʼt see why they donʼt just replace it entirely,” Ferro sighed with a dramatic fling of his hands up. “Anyhow, gentlemen.” With one last nod, he took his leave.

—

“Hmmm, so that was Ferro, wasnʼt it?”

“Do you know him?” Ignis asked his passenger while he started the engine, taking a moment to appreciate the smooth purr before he released the lever and drove out of the parking lot. Even the way the steering wheel responded to the slightest pull of his wrist felt like it was made for him and him alone. Ah, Shinra. Ah, mako technology. Was it any wonder that they were all quite spoiled for them? 

“I havenʼt met him until then,” Prompto answered, tapping on the dashboard to put on the radio. If it were up to Ignis, he preferred to drive in silence, but this wasnʼt his car to begin with. “But sometimes, when we actually eat together at home, my parents talk about him. They call him General Ferro, though heʼs not a real general. Heʼs just really into the Shinra Creed and stuff, and theyʼre even saying that pin on his breast is a spy cam with a mic. Itʼs kinda funny if you think about it.” To prove that it was, he laughed. 

“Senior Manager Ferro has been around since the president was still in his thirties,” Ignis shared, merging with a major road and tapping the gas a little harder. “Heʼs witnessed several reorganizations but heʼs hardly budged.”

“Really? Heʼs that good?” Promptoʼs eyes on him were the perfect coin shape. 

“Or that bad.” Now that he was out of the building, with no spy cams with mics or whatsoever, Ignis could, as the saying went, let down his styled hair and be more honest. Besides, Prompto was a good kid—eager to learn and to impress, smarter than he let on, a little awkward but quite brave, still. “Considering his seniority, he should have already been offered the position of Vice Director at the very least.”

“Next to a Vice Director, a Senior Manager does sound small,” Prompto agreed as he thought aloud about it. “Hey, doesnʼt he know your age, Ignis?” It was _Ignis_ now that they were out of the office. “He said young, bright minds like me but weʼre practically the same generation.” That was true. The only other differences between them, after all, was that Prompto had the luxury of having an address in the Sector 2 Employee Housing District and could afford a full college education on mechanical engineering, while Ignis had to work immediately after he graduated from high school. 

Ignis smiled at his younger friend. “I think my eyebags and wrinkles have aged me by ten years.”

“Wrinkles my foot, you donʼt have any,” Prompto countered. “Anyway, you should totally do something fun tomorrow! Itʼs Friday!” It was, also, the due date of his rent. “So, got any plans?”

“Perhaps Iʼll drop by that single origin coffee shop before I head on home.” Ignis hadnʼt been thinking about it but now he was. Prompto was right, after all. 

“Ignis, thatʼs boring! What I meant was something like _I_ would do.”

“Which is?” Ignis stopped at a corner to let a car through before he turned right. 

Prompto beamed closely to him. “I scored tickets to the _Honeybee Inn_ ,” he sang. 

“You did?” Oh, thatʼs nice. Ignis didnʼt think Prompto was the type to be visiting VIP nightclubs but then again, he remembered thereʼd been a time when Director Reeve had asked him to book a full-body massage package for his mother in the same nightclub. And then he handed him his membership card in case they needed to confirm his ID number over the phone. Director Reeve certainly didnʼt look like a VIP nightclub customer, too, but there it was. 

“Mhm!” Prompto was very proud of his membership. “Not only that—itʼs V. I. P tickets! Front row!”

“Oh, you did?” Ignis glanced at him this time with a note of surprise. Okay, now that was impressive. From what he understood of the entertainment club, its regular tickets were already expensive enough even with a VIP discount. So to procure a more premium version of an already-premium ticket… “Why, that must have cost you your kidney, Prompto.” Where the hell was this kid getting his money from? 

Prompto laughed triumphantly. “Thatʼs the thing—I didnʼt spend a gil on it! It was really just luck,” he shared. “You know about the _Loveless Hearts_ magazine?” Hang on—

“Isnʼt that a pornographic magazine?”

“Ahh, so you do know it!!”

“Prompto.” Ignis wasnʼt intending it but he may have used his managerʼs voice on him. “Iʼm two years older than you and have been working, for four years now, in a highly stressful environment where men and women have various methods of unwinding, if you get my meaning. Work enough late nights and youʼll have seen enough to be familiar. Now whatʼs your excuse?”

Promptoʼs excuse was to laugh shyly and scratch his head. 

“BUT,” he came back at Ignis with a vengeance, “Iʼm really not the one with a subscription, itʼs my classmate!”

“They allow those magazines in the campus?”

“Well obviously, we didnʼt see it there.” Prompto sat back comfortably into his seat. “We went to a magazine stand so he could show me this contest where you take photos of their top idols and they choose the top 10 and I won first prize! Ah, but, you know itʼs just softcore, right? Just lingerie and bikinis and stuff.”

“Of course,” Ignis chuckled suddenly. Which was a funny thing to say considering the subject matter but whatever, they both have their excuses, didnʼt they? “Congratulations, Prompto.” He flashed him a smile. Typical of a business to claim the rights of their patronsʼ creative work without just compensation. Then again, thatʼs how money was made. “And the prize is a pair of VIP tickets to tomorrowʼs show at the _Honeybee Inn_?” Judging by the ordinary date (it wasnʼt even payday) and the size of the publication, Ignis figured it might be a minor show with unknown faces and spare tickets. 

Prompto was happy enough despite that, though. “Yup!” And then he was swooning and twisting in his seat, as if he was cuddling something to his chest. “Ahhh, I canʼt wait to see her tomorrow!”

“Who?”

“The goddess of the stage, Cindy Aurum.” Prompto definitely looked starry-eyed when he intoned her name. “She used to dance for _Supergirls_ across _Honeybee Inn_ until Andrea Rhodea saw her for her real talent and made her his new Honeygirl! Iʼm actually going to witness her debut in the _Honeybee Inn_!!” Like Ignis said: a minor show with unknown faces and spare tickets. At least Prompto felt it was a fair trade for his hard work.

—

They parked near the central train station and stopped for a late dinner at a noodle cart that was trying for an undercity vibe but was otherwise too clean and too expensive for the real thing. Exoticization at its finest. But, beggars couldnʼt be choosers, much less growing young men taking advantage of their 2-for-1 promo. After that, they said goodbye and parted ways—Ignis to the train and Prompto back to his car to finally head on home.

To his joyous relief, Ignis managed to find an empty coach easily enough, just as they pulled out of the station. He figured this boon was less because of the late hour and more due to the terrorists still at large but he had never been one to reject a rare blessing, especially when he needed one. Life for him, after all, was made up of equal parts of windfall, honed wit and sheer tenacity. That had been the recipe for his survival for as long as he could remember. 

An orphan, after all, could count on no one else but themselves. 

It took guts for him not to fall asleep while the train rocked him like a cradle. As soon as they had passed the Sector 6 station, he made it a point to get up and park himself near the door for an easy and sure exit. Sector 7 came up soon enough. 

He got off to an empty platform, the stench of urine and roaches ripe in the heavy air. From a distance, the late night bars and eateries were as lively as ever, a luxury best enjoyed by the desperate. 

Overhead, the polluted skies had disappeared behind a massive metal plate that spanned the entire sector, dark with the sun lamps switched off for the night. After a long day wrestling with upper plate problems, Ignis really was home now. Ironic as it was, he could finally feel comfortable in his own skin. 

He took a narrow way to the right of the biggest, brightest bar of the sector, said hello to a few stragglers sitting outside their box homes, trying to fit in as much alcohol as could knock them off. After another turn to the left and a winding way that led him down south, a stout apartment building made up of mixed metal and stone crawled slowly into view. 

“Mr. Scientia!” The voice that called him just as he was unlocking the door to his unit came from a boy about half his age or just a little older than that. He was his neighbor, and had stumbled out of the door with only one slipper on when he greeted Ignis with a polite bow. “Sorry to trouble you but Mama got held up at work for a round-the-clock shift. So she wonʼt be able to make it home in time to do Grandmamaʼs breakfast.” Grandmama was an old woman who occupied the sole unit downstairs, next to the shared kitchen and bathroom. Sheʼd always been alone since Ignis moved into this address and as the story went, her son had abandoned her here as soon as he was granted a house in the upper plate. 

Ever since, they all just looked after her. Down here, community was more important than the money they could give. “Itʼs no problem,” Ignis assured him with a little smile and a nod. “Iʼll be sure to take care of it and her lunch.” It meant an earlier start to his day, but at least it also meant he could pack some lunch for himself. 

The boy bowed again. “Thanks so much, Sir! Mama says she should be home tomorrow afternoon so sheʼll take your turn.” His turn in the kitchen, that is. Until this change in schedule, he was supposed to be responsible for Grandmamaʼs nutrition on Saturday. 

They said goodnight and he finally went inside his sparse apartment. Arranged his clothes and things for the next day before he packed his bath stuff and went down for a shower. Even this one was a surprise blessing—the late hour, after all, meant that he didnʼt have to compete with anyone for the hot water and the volume. 

It put him right in the mood for a little personal time he was hoping to enjoy before he turned in. His own method of unwinding after an impossible day. He started by making sure the door was locked, then stripping off his underwear and his pants before he made himself comfortable on the only wooden chair in the room, facing his pristine bed from the side where he laid a clean towel. He gathered his shirt and swung it over the back of his neck to expose his chest before he put on his ear buds and scrolled through a private collection stored in an old audio player he left at home. 

Ignis let it play while he tore a silver packet open and rolled the condom onto an anal vibrator he kept in a secret drawer under his mattress. Finally, he squirted lube onto his left palm and rolled the toy in it. 

By the time the voices in his ears were panting and grunting, he had already spread himself open and pierced himself with the bulbous head of the dildo. This was a new one, a little bigger and longer than he was used to. 

He shifted a little in his seat, bracing his feet on the side of his bed before he pushed the toy further in—slowly, relishing the tension around his pelvis as he contracted around its girth. He took a moment to breathe, watching his flat belly roll as he did so. 

Ignis waited until heʼd swallowed up half the dildo before he switched the vibration on to the lowest level. He drew his eyes close, humming at the pleasant tingles rubbing along his passage as he started to pull and push inside him in shallow motions, just to get used to its size. His left hand, still soaked with lube, wrapped itself around his stirring cock to stroke it. 

Before long, he was moaning deeply with the voice in his right ear. That was the thing he appreciated about these ASMR clips—everything was so clear and so sharp, they could be real if he put his mind to it. The brush of a hand on skin, the labored breaths, the squelch of the cock penetrating the ass, the smack of skin on skin as the actors fucked. 

A stray thought snuck into his private world: he really ought to invest in a hands-free toy so he could play with his nipples and his balls at the same time. But tonight, he could pretend his virtual mate was avoiding that on purpose. 

Who was he? _Draco._ A name far removed from any he was familiar with and also the most decent porn stage name heʼd come across. He would be tall and large, with rippling muscles and maybe some facial hair. 

Where were they? Hm, what place would require the presence of a man like Draco… 

A bar. A seedy bar. Maybe in the backroom. Maybe Draco was a bouncer whoʼd taken a liking on Ignis. Maybe heʼd noticed how stressed he was and had offered to help him loosen up for the night. As the plot of adult videos went. 

_Draco!_ he imagined himself crying when he nailed his prostate with the dildo. Heʼd set its pulse to a higher level and was rolling his ass forward just as he was plunging it in. His cock was swollen and rigid in his grip, flowing freely with pre-cum. 

In his ears, the right voice was moaning and hissing yeses to the left voice, growling to him, “ _Youʼre so fucking good. You feel so fucking good!_ ” In his head, he imagined the mysterious Draco whispering the same words to him, taking him on a table, his underwear and trousers bunched around his calves. What a joy it must be to be in that place—desperate and wanted, pushed up where he couldnʼt escape. 

Well, tomorrow was a Friday. It could be a good day to be in that place.

—

What was he thinking? Of course it wasnʼt. Just because it was a Friday and he felt a little horny last night didnʼt make it a good idea for him to just let loose against his better judgment. There was a reason, after all, why he preferred the joy of masturbating on his own—it was safe, it was private and it was clean. Strangers wouldnʼt give him that comfort, he didnʼt have friends who would inspire him to take the leap and there was no way in hell he would do it with anyone from his office. For sure nothing would beat the thrill and heat of having a real dick up his ass but he wasnʼt that desperate for it.

Besides, gourmet coffee after a long and arduous week was still a sound idea. Hot and silky liquid, fragrant steam, bitter enough to wake and soothe the senses. And if that wasnʼt enough, he could live dangerously by dining in a high-class restaurant and spending more money he didnʼt have. Ignis had other ways of stimulating himself that did not require phallic objects. 

He woke up before the sun lamp the next day to take a shower, prepare Grandmamaʼs meals, leave the rent with his landlady and take the first train to work to avoid the crowd. From there, it was a slow and steady build up to another hectic day in the office. Indeed, who cared if it was a Friday? 

“ _Whoooah_ , is this really real?!” Well, Prompto did. “Not only do I get to see Cindy later night, I get to have Scientia Special for lunch, too!!” He brought the extra lunch box Ignis had made for him up to his nose to breathe in the aroma. “Ahhh, this must be what happiness smells like!” 

“Please, itʼs nothing special,” Ignis chuckled, though he was smiling brightly for the compliment. After that last meeting had run way past noon, it was certainly something he needed. “Itʼs just pork cutlet.”

“Yeah, but itʼs so juicy and the egg is so silky and the rice is so fluffy and even the onion and the sauce are so sweet!!” Prompto sharpened his spoon and fork together before he dug in, scooping up a mouthful for his first bite. “Mom never does this like this.” He left nothing in the spoon when he gobbled up his lunch. 

Ignis laughed briefly as he swooned, pressing his hands to his cheeks in perfect euphoria. For himself, he took a more modest spoonful, raising the pork to his eyes to check the visual texture before he slipped it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, picking out the crunch, the bite, the sweet and salty flavors mixing together. He could have added a bit more dark soy, he concluded, but was satisfied enough to keep eating. 

“Hey,” Prompto piped up after a few more bites spent in blissful silence. “Have you ever thought about joining a restaurant or making one yourself? Like I havenʼt tasted anything youʼve made that wasnʼt mind-blowing!” This was why he liked having lunch with his intern. 

Ignis nodded. “Iʼve thought of it, of course. But the restaurants I want to join havenʼt opened up hiring to the public and starting one requires more than skill. Iʼll need a profitable market, a capital, a place, some people to help me out…and Iʼll be lucky to enjoy my ROI within two years which is a risk I simply canʼt afford.”

“Hmmm, I see.” It was sweet of Prompto to pout on his behalf, scraping a little at the last bits of his lunch. The sound of his phone ringing next to him perked him up again, though. He bounced a little in his seat as he grabbed it before he remembered to say, “Ahh, please excuse me for a bit,” then got up and went off to the other end of the empty cafeteria to take the call. If he wanted privacy, though, Ignis thought he should have gone inside a meeting room instead. 

With the lunch hour over and the natural volume of his voice, he could practically still make out every word from him. “Eh? Really?” Prompto said, looking and sounding surprised at the news heʼd just heard. “Hmmm…so it really canʼt be helped, huh? Well, you should definitely be with her. Yeah, donʼt worry about me! Iʼll find someone else to go with. Hope everything turns out okay for you both!” That was the end of it. 

Despite the cheerful note he hung up with, though, when Prompto returned to their table, he looked crestfallen. And Ignis couldnʼt remember a time when heʼd seen the man look more discouraged. He had to put down his cutlery when he asked him, “Prompto, what is it?”

“That was my friend,” he sighed, picking up his spoon to scoop up what was left of his food. “He was the one I was supposed to go with to the _Honeybee Inn_ later but he had to cancel out ‘cause his momʼs gout is acting up again.”

“Oh dear.” Ignis crossed his arms on the table, though to be honest, his concern was more for the mother than Prompto. “So, whatʼs the plan now?”

Prompto managed to finish up his meal with a sulking look. “Well, I gotta look for someone else to go with now. See, heʼs the guy who knows his way around Sector 6 and I invited him so I could tag along.” He sighed loudly, shoulders heavy, gazing out to the light traffic of Midgar in the early afternoon. “Now what am I gonna do? I was really looking forward to tonight, and this ticket canʼt be used for another show. Hmmm, maybe you know someone…” If Ignis did, he never got the chance to mull it over—because the way Prompto snapped to him suddenly looked like heʼd already found someone else. 

And Ignis was pretty sure he knew who this person was. “Seriously, Prompto?”

“Ignis— _Manager Scientia_ , please!” Prompto dropped his spoon to the table and clasped his hands tightly in prayer even when Ignis stared at him to reconsider. “You’re my only hope! You live in Sector 7, right? Maybe youʼre familiar!”

“Prompto,” Ignis raised a hand to him, his calm voice a great contrast to Promptoʼs rising decibels, “just because I live next to Wall Market doesnʼt mean I know my way around.”

“Have you been to?”

“Yes, Iʼve been to—” Who hasnʼt—

“ _Then thatʼs enough!_ ” Prompto interjected sharply and brought his hands much closer to Ignis. “Please help me out, Iʼll never ask much more than this again!” Well, that was true. One other thing he appreciated about Prompto as an intern was that he was determined to be independent—the living testimony of _fake it ‘til you make it_. So when he promised he wouldnʼt ask much more than this, Ignis could easily believe him. 

And also: that he was really desperate. 

Ignis fell back to his seat, sighing through his nose. What would he gain for disappointing his friend who only wanted to cash in on his luck and his creative work? It wasnʼt like he was serious about coffee and dinner later, after all, and this seemed more important than that. 

“Very well,” he exhaled, pushing back his glasses. “What time shall we leave?” Prompto flew up to his feet and rejoiced with a triumphant cry.

—

The show was going to be at 8:30 so they had enough time to work late, have dinner, and board the train to Sector 5ʼs undercity where they could hail a Chocobo en route to Wall Market.

“So youʼve never come to this place on foot?” Ignis asked his friend just as he was pulling at the knot of his necktie to unravel it from his neck. 

Prompto shook his head, hands on his knees. By now, he was dressed out of his uniform and into a trendy black vest and a pair of light gray jeans that was meant to look worn with use. Over his right bicep, he had black bandana wrapped firmly around it. Before they took off to the train station in his car, heʼd asked Ignisʼ help to make sure that it would stay in place. “I always take the Chocobo. Why?” was his curious response. 

Ignis only nodded while he loosened his shirt to the third button and opened out his blazer, as well. “Itʼs a good idea,” he answered vaguely. “Otherwise, itʼs a tough journey on foot.”

Prompto took it on face value. Ignis opened up his messenger bag to stash his necktie in and look through its items. “Thatʼs what my friend tells me, too, yʼknow? He also told me not to look out the window. Is that— _oooooh_ , are those real?!”

Despite the shock and intrigue on the younger manʼs face, Ignisʼ reaction was only to nod. Nevermind that heʼd just produced a pair of iron daggers, sheathed and connected by a worn leather belt. “Itʼs true what your friend says: itʼs best not to look out the window.” Slipping the tongue off the buckle, he wrapped his holster around his waist and deftly secured it in place. “This is our insurance.”

“Whoooah, you suddenly look so cool now,” Prompto gasped not-so-quietly. Whereas earlier, he was questioning Ignisʼ decision of going in his business suit. “C, can I see one…?”

Ignis slipped his right dagger off its cradle and handed it to Prompto, grip first. The clean blade glimmered brightly under the dim light of the coach. “Wield it carefully.”

“Ah, no, I donʼt wanna touch it.” Prompto even held his hands up and away from the dangerous thing. “I just wanna look at it.” And he did, bringing his nose close enough to the handle to fog the steel with his breath, looking at it left and right. “So cool,” he swooned again. He pointed at the green orb in the middle of the crossguard. “What materia is this?”

“That would be my healing materia,” Ignis revealed, sheathing his dagger once Prompto had straightened up. He nodded to his left. “I have a fire materia in the other one.”

“Wow, youʼre really ready, arenʼt you?”

“I try to be,” Ignis confessed with a humble tone. And on that note: “Prompto, these roads are unsafe and these thin walls may not be enough to protect us. When scared, an animalʼs instinct is to run away so we cannot rely on the Chocoboʼs aide. When something happens, I want you to stay in here and let me take care of it.”

“Will I get to see you fight those monsters off?” Ah, so heʼs aware of what lurks in the dark. 

Ignis smiled at his gaping friend. “With luck, you wonʼt have to.”

He didnʼt—despite the rocky ride and the quick scare where the Chocobo had almost stepped on a rat, it was a smooth journey to Wall Market. 

“But how long have you been using those things?” Prompto was back on the topic of Ignisʼ weapons. He walked side-by-side him, arms crossed at the back of his head, young and carefree. 

“These particular ones have been with me for a few months,” Ignis answered him, looking quite out of place in his business suit despite the unruly appearance of his shirt and jacket. “But Iʼve been carrying a pair around since I was 15.”

“Wow, you must be a real expert now.” Prompto whistled. “I donʼt even remember what I was doing when I was 13! I havenʼt even joined a marathon back then.”

“Your accomplishments arenʼt made less important by the lack of such gear, Prompto.” Even though his friend wasnʼt looking for an assurance, Ignis felt he was in a good place to deliver it. “I havenʼt run a marathon myself because I am not in a state to consider it important. You, on the other hand, have made such a triumph due to your concern for your health.” He smiled. “And that is as admirable as taking up this pair.”

When Prompto laughed, he sounded perfectly bashful. “I guess youʼre right, huh?” Not that he often countered him. “Is it really that dangerous to live down here, though?” Young and carefree indeed. 

Ignis nodded. “As above the plate, there are many opportunities to be had down here, as well. However, they may also hurt people in the process of achieving them. I picked these up firstly so I could protect myself, and then so I could protect others who could not protect themselves.”

“Ignis, youʼre like a legendary hero.”

Ignis laughed. “I only do what I can for the community. Now,” he gestured to a shop along the left side of the path they took, named _Florist Watanabe_ , “you wanted to buy flowers for your idol, didnʼt you?”

“Oh yeah!” Prompto started for it but stopped in the middle to head back to Ignis. “How about you? Iʼll pay for it!” He paid for dinner and the Chocobo, too. He really was committed to show how grateful he was. 

Charming as the offer was, Ignis couldnʼt keep his brow from popping up. “I donʼt know anyone in that place.”

“Yeah, but you could find someone you like! Whether or not youʼre into women or men or both, the show has something for you.” Spoken like a true Honeybee. “If you find someone you like, you could give it to them at the stage door.” Oh, so they were doing that. 

“Itʼs highly unlikely,” Ignis insisted, raising his hand to wave the thought off. “I wouldnʼt waste your money on it.” Besides, he wasnʼt sure the Honeyboys were his type right now. Slender and long, they made for good imaginations with a penis vibrator but after last night, he was in the mood for something else. 

Which he would pointedly not look for in this dangerous district. Though the irony of going to a similar establishment from what he thought of last night was not lost in him. But at least it wasnʼt seedy, or technically a bar. 

Prompto released him with an, “Okay!” and returned to the lively flower shop. He came out soon enough with a fat bouquet that made Ignisʼ purse flinch just by looking at it. Yellow, purple, red and pink, with a pastel peach and white paper wrapping. A perfect gift for a girlfriend on their anniversary. 

They made their way down to the lower bowels of Wall Market, where temptation laid in wait. “Did you also get her flowers when you used to see her on _Supergirls_?” Ignis asked. 

Prompto nodded. “At least when I went to see her in person. Most of the time, though I only get to watch her on livestream since Iʼm not very familiar with this place so I canʼt go alone. Honestly, Iʼm still thinking about how Iʼll get to keep up with her performances now that sheʼs in an exclusive club…but Iʼll think about it!” Well, heʼd always been a dogged fellow. 

Outside the nightclub, they didnʼt have to wait too long to be let in as soon as Prompto flashed their tickets, much to the envy of the line waiting outside the reception hall. Which was good for Ignis who was tempted to hide his face from them with his hand as he passed. After another brief interval in the sophisticated waiting room, a blonde Honeygirl with perfectly shaped curves and a massive stinger fetched them and led them to their specially prepared table. They were a little off-center to the left, a VIP by any name but not quite, but neither of them minded either. Prompto was happy enough to be in the front, Ignis was happy enough to be able to lounge on the luxurious couch, stretch his legs with a Costa del Sol Sunrise. A complete Friday mood. True enough, when the cocktail arrived, it looked like an unassuming glass of lemonade. 

“Prompto.” With that sharp note, he captured his younger friendʼs arm just as he was about to sip from his blue drink. “Remember, youʼre driving tonight.”

“Ignis, I know that!” Prompto sputtered out in wide-eyed defense. “Itʼs just a Midgar Spritz, it has no alcohol.”

“Iʼm just making sure,” Ignis told him, pulling back his hand just as the lights dimmed. “Weʼve come out as friends tonight but youʼre still my intern and Iʼm still older than you. Which makes you my responsibility.”

“Ahhh, I knooow!” Prompto insisted in half a panic, pulling back his wrist. “Anyway, itʼs about to start!”

They had just enough time to settle down before the show began with a play of lights—golden sparkles swirling from around them towards the stage, made possible by holographic devices installed around the room. That was enough to catch the audience in awe, though the effect was a little lost with how few there was allowed in the room. For all that it was a minor show, after all, it was still exclusive to a lucky crowd. 

And a captivated one, too, all their eyes drawn to the massive flower bud growing out of the stage just as the mid-tempo opening number of a Honeybee show came on. The petals would peel themselves to reveal four Honeygirls—because they were, after all, supposed to be bees—arms up, the two at the front crouching sexily. Three tables at the back had already started to hoot. 

“Is Cindy one of them?” Ignis asked. 

Despite the stars in Promptoʼs eyes, he shook his head. “I think these are like the birthday celebrators for this month so theyʼve got these special numbers where theyʼre the stars.” Oh, well thatʼs nice. 

The Honeygirls danced in the dark—simple arm and leg movements meant to emphasize the length of their limbs and their ability to move with the beat. At the corner of his eyes, Ignis could make out their background dancers rising into the stage in the cover of the shadows. A perfectly smooth entrance. 

So that by the time the drum beats of the song came on and golden light splashed out and flooded the stage, they were all in place to pose with their hands high. The crowd went off with a celebration of cheer and applause. Ignis turned to Prompto but Prompto didnʼt look like he recognized any of them. 

There were more women onstage than there were men, each of them made up to look big-eyed, thick-lipped, hair pulled to one shoulder if they had the length for it. More than their male counterparts, after all, dressed to look like waiters in a gold and black vest and a top hat, they were the real stars of the show. Tight black bathing suits striped in gold, round breasts and buttocks, stockinged legs, antennae headbands…and with how they could spin and kick and jump and dip without smacking anyone with their wings and stinger, Ignis thought the attention was well-deserved. 

Honeycomb stages rose off the platform, each lined with spotlights flashing in hues of red and yellow while more Honeyboys marched and twirled from the backstage onto the front. It was a real party up there and down in the audience now. Two women each opened up a Honeycomb to let out four other Honeygirls joining the troupe. 

And _then_ , finally, Prompto was screaming. Which felt like a gush of pure, unadulterated _sound_ shooting up from Ignisʼ side like a wild geyser that went, “ _Cindy!!_ ” Ignis almost dropped his glasses—both the one on his eyes and in his hand. 

He had to wait for Prompto to calm down (though he was still bouncing on his seat and clapping his hands like crazy) before he could pose him the question _again_ : “Whereʼs Cindy?”

“Sheʼs the blonde one!”

“Yes, because there arenʼt _six_ of them up there.”

“Oh, right.” If Cindy ever took Prompto for her boyfriend, Ignis had no doubts she would suffer no jealousy considering the guy only had eyes for her. Leaning left and then right on his seat, he looked for a way to point her out in the midst of all the women she was meant to look like. “Oh!” He pointed to her, all right. “Thatʼs her, the one whoʼs swinging on a Honeyboyʼs arm!” Swinging on a Honeyboyʼs arm, that was a fairly specific and easy descriptor. Ignis sought her out, eyes darting from one dancing man to another. 

His heart may or may not have stopped when he finally spotted them—that pair near their side with a blonde Honeygirl, her golden hair pulled up to a tight knot, jumping to wrap her legs around her partnerʼs thick waist so he could spin her around as she dipped backwards. More specifically, when he spotted _him_ —tall and large, with rippling muscles under his sharp shirt. He couldnʼt believe it, _he_ was a Honeyboy?! But he was so…so…so… 

_Handsome._ Broad-shouldered, hard-chested, with a winning smile to boot. Heavy-browed, a nose as sharp as his dagger…where the rest of his fellows were…pretty and lithe and soft. But he looked like them and _moved_ like them, the long sharp tails of his vest drawing a perfect circle when he spun with them though where they had grace, he had force. Which just made the thrust of his chest and the snap of his hips _oh so sexier_. 

“Are these all new dancers?” Despite his even voice, Ignis could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest, faster than the song that drowned it out. Cindyʼs Honeyboy was so damn attractive and the shape of his ass was _not bad at all_. Round and thick, just the right amount of meat for his imaginations. 

“Iʼm not sure.” Prompto was dancing even as he answered, following Cindyʼs movements faithfully from their seat. “But I donʼt really know anyone else aside from Cindy on that stage, yʼknow?” So the mystery Honeyboy wasnʼt someone whoʼd been acquainted with Cindy until now. A regular dancer, then? Or another new bee from a different flower. 

Whatever. So it falls on Ignis to solve the case. Challenge accepted. Surely itʼs nothing more difficult than connecting the dots and following the trail. 

In the meantime, he ought to enjoy himself and familiarize himself with this Honeyboy. He leaned back on the couch, bringing his glass for a sip while his favorite dancer swirled his hips. 

The opening number ended with a rich howl from the audience, blending smoothly into the next performance, and then the next. Cindy and the Honeyboy remained on stage for the second one, trading partners but always coming back together which made keeping an eye on him that much easier. He was gone for a while after that, though Cindy returned without him to play one of the cutesy backup singers of a more famous Honeygirlʼs lip sync performance. Probably one of the birthday celebrators from earlier. 

Ignis couldnʼt stop himself from smiling behind his fingers when that sexy Honeyboy came back with a squad of his fellows and other Honeygirls, especially when he caught him sharing a brief high five with Cindy who disappeared from the stage. So they were close. Good, that would make his detective work easier. Prompto used that as an opportunity to visit the bathroom quickly. He figured that will have to be him soon. 

Not now—he was enjoying himself far too much for a person who was literally just leeching on his friendʼs hard work. A pair of Honeyboys (sadly not him) had strutted down the audience area, following a pink spotlight which landed on a pretty woman in a short strapless dress that opened out to a full skirt. Ignis clapped politely with the crowd while holographic fireworks burst around them to spell out birthday greetings for her. The mark stood up, red in the face with a massive smile splitting it open. How lucky was he that they so happened to have a female celebrator in the audience, as well, on that same night that he was there? 

Thanks to her, he got to watch his favorite Honeyboy dance again while they sat her down in a special throne onstage and crowned her as the queen bee for the night. From the back, a pair of Honeygirls rolled out a tray with her birthday cake, care of the nightclub. 

Ignisʼ Honeyboy never missed a beat. With less dancers vying for the audienceʼs attention now, he could watch him move his body in peace and appreciate the swivels, the dips, the synchronized way he stepped with his fellow backup dancers and how he just…dominates the stage with his sheer presence! Time seemed to stop and fly at the same time while he watched him. 

He didnʼt realize that Prompto had returned until he was howling for Cindy again when she came back out for the penultimate dance number, returning to her Honeyboyʼs arms so she could lean seductively on his chest while he slanted towards his back. He was a full foot taller than her, and was quite the magnet for attention that he had to be placed at the back for the closing number, just to even out the odds. 

Ignis had to get up with the crowd to applaud the performance once the final confetti had been shot. Prompto was as lively as ever, jumping and all. Their gracious Honeybees bowed to them in unison just as the curtain fell. 

And to think he could have traded this all for coffee and porn…

—

The more Ignis thought about it, the better he appreciated the show heʼd just witnessed. The holographs were exciting, the whole thing transitioned smoothly from start to end and not to mention, for a minor show, the crowd was highly receptive of them.

Which certainly didnʼt explain why he and Prompto were the only ones standing at the side of the entrance an hour from midnight when pretty much everyone else had dispersed. As soon as he was out of the cloying perfume of the nightclub, Ignis felt a little of himself coming back to him and began to worry about the trip home. He could still catch the last train to Sector 7 but he would have to leave soon. And that meant dragging Prompto back with him to the station, bouquet and all, because there was no way he was going to leave this place without him. 

“Are you certain they havenʼt left yet?” Ignis asked, checking the time on his phone for the fifth time in half an hour. 

“Yup!” he chirruped. How he still had enough energy to be perky at that hour was beyond him. Ignis himself was already starting to feel a little ragged, what with the deadlines he had, all that alcohol heʼd ingested during the show (somehow he survived three different cocktails with only a plate of nuts to break them) and the lulling silence of the outside after a wild night in. “This is how it always works, even when Cindy was still in _Supergirls_ …AH, there she is!! _Cindy!_ ” he sang out her name and waved for her attention. Ignis turned to meet her. 

He could hardly have caught himself from jumping when he realized that she wasnʼt alone. The man who walked beside her was a full foot taller than her, dressed in a dark blue hoodie with a gym bag slung across his chest. He had dark hair that trailed down to the back of his neck and was shaved at the sides so that his ears were exposed. 

He looked vastly different from the Honeyboy that Ignis remembered, but he was willing to bet that this was him. This was his mystery Honeyboy. Heavy-browed, nose as sharp as his dagger. 

“Prompto! You actually really did come like you said,” Cindy trilled as soon as theyʼd finally met by the entrance. He realized, then, when sheʼd hurried into the light, that she didnʼt have long hair as he was led to believe in the show. Hers was cut short into a puffy bob, and lighter than the wig she had on. 

Prompto giggled. “W, w, well, I…couldnʼt miss your Honeybee debut, could I!” He laughed nervously. Ignis almost snorted—and just earlier, he would have thought theyʼd become close enough to be friends due to his admiration. “Uh, uh, umm…” His eyes fell on his bouquet. “Oh!” He handed it to Cindy with rigid arms. “Congratulations on your first show!”

“Awww, you shouldnʼt have!” The way Cindy reacted with delight, though, it was obvious that she was expecting this and was thrilled to be proven right. She pawed through the blossoms briefly before she pressed them to her nose to breathe them in. “Hey, remember that guy Iʼve been telling you about before we started the show?” Ignis tried not to freeze when he realized that she had been talking to the mystery Honeyboy just over her shoulder. Because he didnʼt want to hog her spotlight? How terribly sweet of him. “This is him.”

“Yeah?” He wrapped his thick arms along his chest, a bemused expression on his lips. “Couldʼve fooled me.” His voice, it was deep and rich, like dark coffee luring Ignis with its fragrance. Not only was he visually pleasing, he sounded _good_ , too. He had to wonder how it would feel like to have that voice rumbling closely to his ear while he pressed him to a table, his thick chest flat on his back and his dick buried deep in his ass. 

Oh dear. This was not the right time to be thinking about his _Draco Romance Collection_. 

Cindy jabbed at him playfully with her elbow and he broke out into a sparkling grin. Ignis smiled with them, though this time he had the excuse of sharing in polite laughter (where Prompto tittered nervously). 

His mystery Honeyboy gestured towards the burning Prompto. Without his stylish costume, he moved so differently and so…casually. Confidence rode in the roll of his shoulders and the careless swish of his arm. He put Ignis at ease. “Wish we had a Best Audience Award ‘cause I wouldʼve given it to you. We could hear you all the way from the back! Thanks a lot for cominʼ down here to support us.”

Any more attention and Ignis feared blood would be gushing out through Promptoʼs ears. At this rate, the younger man could only laugh and wave his hand. Quite literally speechless. 

“Oh!” Cindy stepped up again, closer to Ignis this time. Her Honeyboy moved along with her. “I didnʼt notice that youʼd brought a different friend this time. And here I was thinkinʼ itʼs just been ages since I last saw Ken.” Ken was probably the original friend Ignis replaced. “Pleased ta meet ya.” She held out her hand. “Nameʼs Cindy.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Ignis replied snappily, catching her hand in a firm grip, as was only proper in making new acquaintances. “Iʼm Ignis Scientia.” Of course he had to put in his last name like this was a damn official meeting. Might as well throw in his business card while he was at it! “Iʼm afraid Ken is indisposed for the night so I filled in for him. You danced spectacularly tonight, Cindy.”

“Oh wow.” It wasnʼt his intention to make Cindy blush but when she withdrew her hand, she had to cover her lips and turn to the gaping Prompto as if she were a high school teen. “Didnʼt tell me heʼs from up top like yourself.”

“Ahh, heʼs just really like that!” Prompto finally came back from his reverie to take control of the conversation. “I report to him for my internship. Heʼs just… _seriously_ serious and eloquent!” Seriously serious. Okay, Prompto. 

“Itʼs simply a habit, thatʼs all,” Ignis laughed a little. “Like many of us down here, I have a day job up there.”

“Oooh,” Cindy hummed, her hand now on her cheek, her other arm still hugging her bouquet close. “So Promptoʼs the only upper plate guy here! Hmm, no wonder you found your way around even without Ken.”

Prompto giggled again, scratching his head. 

“Yes,” Ignis answered for him, always ready to step up for his friend and subordinate. “He extended the invitation to me and I was very happy to indulge him and to be of assistance. Prompto has been looking forward to your debut all week.”

“Ahh, Ignis, no need to tell her all that.” Prompto spoke with some panic in his voice again. A boy caught red-handed and red-faced by his crush who knew she was his crush, anyway. When Cindy laughed, she did it so prettily, snorting softly into her fist as she danced in her glee. And Ignis could witness the very moment Promptoʼs heart soared. 

“But indeed, it was a wonderful experience,” Ignis went on. “My first show in the _Honeybee Inn_.” He looked at both performers to pass the message to each of them, Cindy and her partner who was just around his height with his lips drawn up to a little smile. “I feel very fortunate to be here.”

That smile sharpened itself into a proper smirk when he came out finally to join Cindy in the spotlight. “Can say the same for us. Ainʼt all the time we get a loving audience, yʼknow?” Finally, he stretched out his hand. “Iʼm Gladio.” _Gladio._

So his Honeyboy has a warriorʼs name. _Gladio._ And his eyes, when he looked into Ignisʼ, they reminded him of coffee beans roasting in the fire, because of course everything has to be about coffee for him. His lips were full, face underscored by a tasteful layer of beard along his hard jaw and on the left side…

Ignis had completely missed this detail until now—a line of scar trailing down from his forehead to just at the end of his cheek, crossed by another, fainter line over his brows. Hidden by makeup while onstage, perhaps? His man has been through a battle. 

He nodded and replied with his name again, “Ignis,” when he grasped his hand for another firm shake. Gladioʼs fingers were long and thick, powerful when they fastened around him. How mysterious. Like coffee. How many layers of flavor does this man have? 

He really ought to put his head on a pillow soon if all he was thinking about now was coffee. 

Prompto flung out his own hand for a proper introduction when Ignis pulled back. Ignis took the chance to look at his phone. Half an hour had passed since he last checked. Not much time left until the last train. How regrettable to leave so soon after introductions but between his infatuation and missing his ride home, he was going to regret the latter one more. 

“Well,” Ignis faced them all again, particularly the performers, “it was lovely meeting you both but Iʼm afraid we have a train to catch.”

“Oh yeah, totally.” Gladio nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Long trip?”

“Iʼm just next door,” Ignis answered, nodding his head to the vague direction of Sector 7. “Prompto, however,” he turned to the sighing man, “still needs to come up to the surface.”

“Yeah, I know.” Prompto didnʼt hide his disappointment, though. “Why canʼt I just have a house down here?”

“Hey,” Gladio waved a finger at the younger man, “you donʼt wanna wish that on yourself. Better if you live a good life up there for your friends down here.” Did he just speak like a big brother to his customer? 

“The man speaks true, Prompto.” Still, Ignis echoed him, earning a look from his pouting friend. “Come now, weʼll catch another performance for sure.” Will they? In a VIP nightclub where neither of them had a membership and the money for? Surely it was possible, he just needed to think about how to do it. And Ignis was nothing if not a thinker. Whatever their circumstances were tonight, he was sure about one thing:

He wanted to see Gladio one more time. 

They said their goodnights and parted ways, though not before Prompto remembered to take a groufie of them. When Gladio offered to take a picture of him and Cindy, though, Prompto insisted that Cindy needed to get home herself. 

“You already had the opportunity to have a picture with your idol, Prompto. Why didnʼt you take it?” Ignis didnʼt mean to chide his friend for the missed chance but he couldnʼt help it. 

“Ignis, we have to get home, too,” Prompto reminded him, as if he needed it. “Besides, I already got a picture with her!”

“Yes, but Gladio and I are sharing the frame with you.” Gladio and him. Oh, what a concept! Ignis peeked over Promptoʼs shoulder to study the picture in his phone himself. “But itʼs quite a lovely photo, Prompto.” Good smiles, everyone in the center. 

The heat of Gladio pulling him to his side as he settled a heavy hand on his shoulder. The smell of his musk so close to him… 

Prompto snickered proudly at his work. “Iʼll send you a copy in your email!”

“Ignis!”

Both of them stopped in their way towards the Chocobos, whirling to see—

“Gladio?” Ignis couldnʼt believe it, but it really was the Honeyboy jogging after them. His heart came up suddenly but when he approached, he kept his motions steady and untouched. “Gladio, what is it?” Any excuse to say his name, really. 

Gladio handed him a smooth white note. “You dropped this.” He had no recollection of that smooth white note, at all. 

Ignis held up his hands and stepped back. “Iʼm afraid—” Gladio was mistaken. 

“Hey,” Gladio insisted on it, though. “Donʼt worry about it.” And then he winked. _He winked._ Ignis wasnʼt stupid, _he knew why people winked._

Though he had to swallow his spit when he conceded and took the note. It was plain, though. The message laid within, then. “Of course,” he said. 

Gladio smiled at them before he waved and hurried back to the waiting Cindy. Cindy waved at them, as well, while Prompto swept the air with both his arms. Ignis kept the note in his jacketʼs inner pocket before he boarded the coach that would take them to the station. 

He didnʼt open it until he and Prompto were alone in the train car. 

“Ignis,” Prompto started, gaping at the card hidden under a _Honeybee Inn_ table napkin, “he gave you his calling card!!”

_GLADIO_ it read in gold and slanted serif print, embossed in the middle of a black card with the nightclubʼs logo in the upper right. It didnʼt have anything more than that so as a calling card, it really was useless. 

But Ignis would take care of it as if it was a lifeline to important business relations. Anyway, the make was quite expensive—a solid card with a smooth finish. Better than the cheap business cards he carried around with him. 

Ignis smiled at Prompto. “I suppose itʼs a special souvenir in itself.” Gladio really wanted him to have it.

—

He didnʼt go back under the surface until Prompto had pulled out of the parking and turned into the road. Down below, Sector 7 was as awake as ever, with warm and drunk faces greeting Ignis left and right.

In the shower, there was a note for tomorrowʼs cleaner that it was time to have the water filter changed. That would be him. This, too, they took care of on rotation. 

In his room, there was another note for him, thanking him for taking care of Grandmamaʼs daytime meals and assuring him that the sender would take care of his kitchen duties tomorrow. That turned out to be another blessing in disguise because Ignis was determined to rise late in the morning. He had plans tonight. 

He dropped himself in his bed, plugged in his ear buds and pulled out a cheap tablet from his secret drawer where he kept his private video collection. The next step would have been for him to scroll through his playlist of titles, gauging his mood for the night depending on the titles and the thumbnails they described. 

But for tonight, he skipped all that and went straight to the streaming sites that he knew. If the show he just saw was a minor one, then it stood to reason that security would have been more lax for the night. And that someone would have surely been able to get away with a personal recording of it. 

He was right, of course. Bootlegs of the entire night would probably be too much to hope for but Ignis could at least content himself with the little clips he found online. One of them was an instant favorite—a close-up of one of the more famous Honeygirls performing her stunts on a high stage but just below her, Gladio rotating his hips as he ran his fingers down his side and reached to his right with the other Honeyboys. And what a thick pair of thighs he had. 

Ignis bit his lip as he replayed the clip again and again. He found another longer one that had less focus on Gladio but caught him seducing the camera with a twirling hand before he snapped his fingers and swayed left and right. This, too, he replayed until he was humming to the song, tapping the beat on his leg. And to think he could have missed this all if Ken had come or if heʼd said no… 

He closed his eyes and leaned back to his pillow, feeling the sweet seduction of sleep tempting him in tune to the music playing in his ears. He couldnʼt think of a better way to end the week on a high.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls note that i added an additional content warning in the tags! it's _references to drugs_
> 
> also finally landed on a less cringy title lol. pls note that the new title of this fic is _this side of the rotting pizza_ which is a play of fitzgerald's _this side of paradise_ and the og ff7's main midgar theme _under the rotting pizza_

Ignis couldnʼt remember the last time heʼd allowed himself to get up late, never mind that it was a weekend. But whatever the case was, he probably wouldnʼt allow it for himself again in a long time. 

He made his bed and cleaned up his room a bit, packed a small bag with his daggers, a towel and a bottle of water he stocked in the shared fridge and changed the filter in the bathroom on his way out. From there, it was a short walk to one of the tallest buildings in the neighborhood that had since lost its name to time. These days, most everyone only came by to put in a job request for the Neighborhood Watch who was famous for being the de facto owners of the property. 

Ignis, though, dropped by for a different reason. Up the middle floor of the building was an empty space that had since been repurposed into a makeshift gym of sorts by the members of the Watch. It was here that he often spent an hour of his weekend mornings in, going through a basic set of exercises—push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, weights—as if to make up for the rest of the week spent sitting in the office day in and day out. 

Before he left, he always made sure to knock on the office (though it was really nothing more than an empty space full of supply boxes) and say hello to whoever was inside. He went down through the stairwell that would lead him to the ground floor of the building where a weapon maker held shop. 

He stopped by there, too, knocking on the storefront to catch the attention of the surly vendor who heʼd caught in the middle of an inventory count. “Sorry to bother you but I heard you were looking for me.”

“Sure am!” Despite the frown on his brows, his friend clasped a fierce hand on his in greeting. “Been a while since you visited, hasnʼt it?”

“You know me,” Ignis braced a hand on his side, “I try not to waste your time when a hello is all that I can offer.” Down here, community was more important than money but there were some, of course, to whom money held more value. Then again, he couldnʼt blame him—his wares were expensive and yet applicable only to a select number of individuals. 

The vendor didnʼt bother to correct him, just tossed his hands up and smiled as if to say, _You know how it is._ “Anyway,” he reached down under the counter, “I wanted ta give ya somethinʼ. Took me some time to put together but I think youʼll like it.” He produced a worn box, then, that must have looked quite elegant during its prime. Now it had lost its polish and its edges had turned dull. Ignis was familiar with it. 

So he knew what to expect when he lifted the lid to find a pair of silver daggers laying in wait. It was still an exciting moment for him where he held his breath, though. Like the ones he currently carried, they were ornate in design, though their crossguards were trimmed down and the grip was just a few centimeters longer. 

“Told you Iʼd repay ya for helping me bury Granddad,” the vendor went on when he picked up a blade and tilted it to catch the light from different angles, looking closely at the line of the edge. “Took me a while ‘cause I wanted to get them right.”

“Theyʼre gorgeous,” Ignis admitted, his awe audible in his praise. He put it back in its box, which was symbolic of himself coming down to reality. “And how many months will you give me to pay for this in full?”

The vendor frowned and waved him off. “Itʼs on the house. Look, I know youʼre strapped for cash yourself. Everyone who insists on living down here is. But still, you lent me a hand when no one could.” He braced his arms on the counter, nodding towards his gift. “It ainʼt money, but I was hopinʼ you wouldnʼt mind.”

Ignis smiled. His eyes were still on the grip and just now, he noticed that it had two materia slots each, a fine upgrade from his old pair. He would be a fool not to indulge this generosity, even though this would even things out for the two of them. And favors were as good as cash for those who didnʼt have them. He would be a fool to lose that advantage, too. He thought fast… 

“I canʼt say no to these.” That much, he could say honestly. 

His friend clapped his hands and raised two thumbs to him. “You’re a smart guy, all right!”

“But I still feel ill at ease taking them without exchanging some value for them. So,” Ignis crossed his arms, “Iʼd like to offer you a trade. My current daggers for these ones.”

“What?” The vendor swatted the air again. “Oh cʼmon, this oneʼs compensation for you!”

“Iʼll have no use for four daggers. You, on the other hand, may yet find something of worth in a used pair,” Ignis pointed out. 

He counted out the seconds in silence, watching ideas cross speedily on the vendorʼs face as he considered his proposition…

“Okay, you know what?” Ultimately, he relented, gesturing for the old blades. “Give ‘em here, themʼs good steel.” Ignis smiled in some triumph as he obeyed, pulling out his materia before he surrendered his personal daggers to him. “You’re racking up favors with me, ainʼcha?”

“Itʼs just as you said,” Ignis reminded him as he packed away his new daggers, “Iʼm a smart man. Would you know when Wymer will be by?”

“Mmm, canʼt really say.” The vendor patted his head in thought. “You lookinʼ to do a little job?”

“Just to see if I can find something to test these new daggers on while helping out,” Ignis explained, crossing his arms. “It _has_ been some time since I did anything worthwhile with the Watch…but I heard thereʼs a new recruit.”

“Yeah,” the vendor confirmed. “About your age. Bit of an attitude problem but gets the work done.”

“Then that means heʼs good at what he does.” And that Ignis could let his responsibilities with the Watch sit for a while longer with a new guy in town they could be entrusted to. “Well, then, I should be going. Thanks again for the daggers.” He saluted him and reached for a parting handshake. 

With his new blades weighing comfortably in his bag, he made a detour to the item shop, caught up with the shopkeeper with a firm handshake before he asked to see his available materia. 

That was enough to clue the young man in on his latest procurement. “New toys?” Ignis nodded to him with a polite smile. He whistled, rubbing his hands before he braced them on his side of the countertop. “How many slots?”

“Four all-in-all,” Ignis shared, which actually meant that he had enough room for the last two magic elements he didnʼt have yet, both of which were in the list that he perused and cost 500-gil a piece. A reasonable price but if he wouldnʼt need them urgently…and 500-gil could get him a decent meal if he knew where to look. Which he did, of course. 

“Iʼll just take some potions for now,” Ignis decided, looking through his bag for his leather coin case. 

The shopkeeper clicked his tongue, waltzing backwards with a shake of his head. “Four materia slots and youʼre only gonna get some potions? _Three?_ ” The last part, he added when Ignis put down 150-gil exactly. 

“I hear thereʼs a new merc in town,” Ignis replied, unfazed. He packed his new potion bottles one by one. 

“Yeah,” the shopkeeper answered, leaning over the counter again. “Helps out with the Watch, took care of the doomrat problem, too.”

“Then if thereʼs anyone who will need these materia more than me, it should be him,” was Ignisʼ sound conclusion. “He must be sweeping up the job list if heʼs particularly good.”

“Guyʼs as stiff as your purse, though,” he huffed. “Messing up my moves on my dream girl, too.”

“If heʼs that wise, then I suppose someone here had better step up his game.” Ignis waved goodbye on his way out. “Have a good day.”

—

After a cool shower and some lunch, Ignis finally returned to his apartment to make good use of the weekend. On his wooden desk—which looked old enough to have existed before he made it to elementary—he pulled out his personal laptop and logged into his email to sort through his overflowing work inbox. This was a task that used to belong to his Fridays, just before he packed up and called it a week. But following the No. 1 Reactorʼs destruction, even that proved to be too time-consuming and quite trivial in the face of his deliverables.

Doing it on a Saturday, at least, gave him peace of mind and allowed him to make a list of the stuff he would have to look into come the next week. Like a battle plan of sorts and he was always quite good in making one. 

Soon enough, he was sifting through the stack of papers to his left (old Neighborhood Watch memos, flyers, office documents that he never managed to bring back), weighed down by a book on historical fiction he never got to so much as crack open, for something clean to write on. He would scribble his reminders and notes there first before he fixed them up in a blank document on his word processor to be printed out in the office. 

He could hardly be distracted from his task by the persistent ringing of his phone, which he only managed to catch the second time the call came through. “Ignis Scientia,” he mumbled, his default greeting in the office and…everywhere, really.

“ _There you are!_ ” He never expected the call to be coming from Prompto, of all people. “ _Were you still asleep?_ ”

And because he still couldnʼt believe it, Ignis had to check the name on his screen— _Prompto Argentum_ —before he allowed himself to reply. “No, I was doing something for the office.” On his laptop, he checked the time and saw that it was two hours past lunch time. _Did_ Prompto just wake up, after all? 

“ _Really?_ ” Prompto sighed. “ _You never rest, do you?_ ”

“Iʼm quite relaxed right now, if thatʼs what you are asking.”

“ _Relaxing isnʼt the same as resting, Ignis,_ ” Prompto snorted. “ _Anyway! Did you see my latest post on Lifestrm?_ ” That was the photo sharing social networking site that his friend occupied his time with. “ _I sent you a link!_ ” Once again, Ignis pulled back the phone from his ear to check through all the notifications heʼd missed in the past hour. Promptoʼs message in Shinra Talk was there, all right. 

He put Prompto on speaker so he could put his phone down and navigate to his browser on his laptop. “Yes, I saw your message,” Ignis answered him, typing the link to his account in the bar. “Iʼm just about to look at the photo, though.”

“ _Itʼs the newest one! Canʼt miss it._ ”

Prompto was right—it caught his eye the moment a tiled gallery of his photographs had loaded on his screen. He clicked on the one at the upper leftmost corner to blow it up—as if he didnʼt have a copy of it of his own in his personal email. _caught the BEST SHOW IN TOWN last night!!! thanks @loveless.hearts for making my @honeybee_inn dream come true!!!_ read the first line of the caption, decorated by an emoji set of a honeypot, a bee and a glittery heart. 

“ _See it yet?_ ”

Ignis smiled despite Promptoʼs absence, looking at each of their happy faces in last nightʼs groufie. “Yes,” he replied again. Chin on hand, he caught himself staring at Gladioʼs grin once more. There was nothing quite as attractive as the look of delight on his face. Eyes open, smile bright. Honest. Looking at him, he could almost believe that this was a man who bore no burden though he knew that was impossible for someone who lived in the shadow of the plate. Still, it made him feel light…and content. 

“ _Check out who liked my photo!_ ”

As of that moment, he had 56 likes, all of them he didnʼt know except… 

Ignis felt himself light up in recognition. “Are these Cindy and Gladio?” He supposed it made sense for them to have their own Lifestrm accounts, though theirs were a little more corporate in nature. 

“ _YES,_ ” Prompto screamed. Ignis almost reached back to pat himself on the shoulder, literally, for the foresight of putting his friend away from his ear. “ _Cindy liked the photo! And after that, she followed me back!!_ ”

“Well then, congratulations, Prompto.” Now Ignis could believe that he had earned back every single iota of his labor. He scrolled down to the comments while his phone rang with Promptoʼs cheer. A user named _@kencancan_ had commented with an emoji with heart-shaped eyes and a note saying, _jelly!!! glad you still got to go! I'll come with next time_ punctuated by a face with shades and another with starry eyes. Others were a little more covetous of his luck. _Their_ luck. 

He was there in that photo, too, though no one would care for a nameless face. A freeloader once more, enjoying the credit without the hard work. It would be a bad habit to get into but once in a while ought to be okay. Ignis felt a little rotten looking through the rest of the messages, tapping out the beat of the Honeybee song on his cheek as he hummed again. 

He didnʼt mean to stop when he saw one of the last comments in the bottom, but he did. 

_**@honeyboy_gladio** Was nice meeting you back! Next time let's go out for drinks too! You, me, ignis and cindy!_

_Him._ His name! Right there: _Ignis._ He remembered him. 

Those fingers crawled to his lips so he could pretend he wasnʼt smiling like some high school ditz. “ _Hey, Ignis._ ” Prompto came up again. He clicked on Gladioʼs username to find his profile. “ _Do you have a Lifestrm account? I got to tag everyone in the photo but you._ ”

“Should I make one?” Ignis asked absent-mindedly. It was a fresh account; Gladio only had seven pictures in the three weeks heʼd been a member. So heʼd only been with the nightclub for less than a month…

He clicked on his first photo. 

“ _Huh? Obviously!_ ” Obviously what? 

Ignis came out of his daydream suddenly and faced his phone. “Say that again?”

“ _Obviously you should make an account! Everyone has one these days. And we could follow each other!_ ” But what would he do with one? 

“And what would I do with one?”

“ _Post pictures?_ ”

Ignis scoffed. “Prompto, I am no photographer.”

“ _You donʼt have to be! You could just post pictures of whatever like…like the things you cooked!_ ” Not that heʼd ever been able to cook much. His kitchen really wasnʼt very conducive for the casual chef. “ _Or like coffee or whatever your interests are!_ ” Which would require spending more money he didnʼt necessarily have just for the sake of digital satisfaction that wouldnʼt feed him. _For the likes_ as people said. This Lifestrm venture, then, would just be a waste of his time. 

Besides, both Promptoʼs and Gladioʼs profiles were public, anyway. If he had an account, he would just use it to look at their photos. Ignis sighed, going back to Gladioʼs photo—a mirror selfie of his debut night in his Honeyboy look. Only 14 likes. His man wasnʼt famous yet. “Iʼll think about it,” he said, dismissing the thought. 

“ _Igniiis!_ ” Only of course, Prompto wouldnʼt be so easily put out. He clicked the next photo: a photo of a tiny spider on his top hat. _That feeling when you're up in 5 but you're still looking for a jar to to keep it in,_ he shared in his caption. Ignis snickered under his breath. “ _You know, Iʼm like…literally just one account left to 1,000 followers!_ ” 

“Then perhaps you ought to ask Gladio to follow you.” The next photo was of the stage for his first rehearsal with Andrea Rhodea himself. 

“ _He already iiis._ ” Count on Prompto to be stubborn. “ _Hey, if you had a Lifestrm account, you could totally follow him, too, yʼknow?_ ” Well, that was true. 

Ignis checked his number of followers. Only 102. Prompto had ten-times more than him. If he wanted to see the man again, he better make sure he stayed onstage, right? 

He turned to his right, picked up the black calling card he leaned against his desk lamp to look at it. _GLADIO_ said the leaning golden serif letters. The man had insisted for him to have it when he gave it to him. He told him not to worry about it as he winked. 

Ignis returned the card to his light. Why was he so unwilling, anyway? It was just an account, it wouldnʼt kill him. No, this wasnʼt the part that was killing him. That honor belonged to the fact that he would have to admit that he now understood how Prompto felt towards Cindy—he, too, held quite the adoration for Gladio. A man he literally just saw for one night! How silly was that? 

But Planet help him, he was so gorgeous and dreamy. He couldnʼt believe heʼd let the Honeybee effect work its magic on him. Ignis had completely let his guard down against it, thinking he was immune to its charm. That had never happened before, he had always been careful with his decisions. 

He clicked on a new photo. A selfie of the man backstage with his thumb up. _50 followers!!! You guys are the best!!!_ If a social media campaign Director Reeve had launched only attracted 50 followers, that would be considered an irreparable disaster. 

So what if he had a crush? Ignis should be old enough to live with it, and he was smart enough not to deny himself. At least Gladio wasnʼt a porn star—that would be worse for his reputation in the office if they ever caught wind of his Lifestrm profile. In any case, it should be no different to his Warker—this would just be another way for him to build his connections. For work and for himself. 

“All right,” Ignis gave in with a loud exhale. Prompto rejoiced with a high, “ _Yahoo!!_ ” “Give me until sunset.”

“ _Donʼt overthink it, okay? Iʼll give you a prize for being my 1,000th follower!_ ” Well, that was sweet of him. 

Prompto hung up finally. Ignis browsed his notifications briefly, replying to a few that came from the office before he disregarded everything else and went back to his screen. Gladioʼs photos were all taken within the nightclub. 

His last photo was just last night, through the door of his dressing room, a green hard cover in hand, completely oblivious to the camera pointed at him. _@honeygirl_cindy caught me cramming in another chapter before showtime. Moral of the story: don't. #damncliffhangers_ That caused him to chuckle. 

He closed down his browser, put his mind back to the task at hand. 

By the time he was done sorting and resorting his priorities for the next week, more than an hour had passed. He went out again in search for some coffee (thanks to the instant stuff in the office, he could always treat himself to something proper on the weekend), returned to his apartment with a cold sandwich and took his first bite as he tackled the next item in his to-do list. 

Lifestrmʼs homepage looked him squarely in the eye, daring him to login. He moved his cursor to the registration page. Now it was asking him for his preferred username. 

Indeed. What would be a good one? 

Prompto said not to overthink it. After a brief moment of pondering, Ignis went with the obvious choice: his first name. 

Taken. 

Even his last name was taken. Ignis snorted out through his nostrils and went for the third and most obvious option left: his full name. _ignis_scientia_. 

Too long. And if he wanted to keep this one a secret from the office, he probably shouldnʼt broadcast his ownership over it. Ignis let out a long breath as he deleted the characters one by one. What now, then? 

His fingers flew over his keys again as he typed up Promptoʼs link in the bar. He could look for ideas through his comments. Somehow, some way, he wanted his name on it. He clicked on the same photo. 

Gravitated towards Gladioʼs smile again. Or maybe he was just looking for an excuse to keep looking at his face. 

Ignis sighed, bringing his chin to his fist, moving closer to the picture. How was it possible that he could still smell his fragrance just by looking at it? As if that was the only thing he could remember from the night. His eyes wandered off to the rest of their group, like some amnesiac trying to put together his memories from last night. Cindy, Prompto… 

Himself, looking a little stunned despite his own smile. 

_Stunned._

Ignis straightened up, navigated back to the registration page and typed in his fourth attempt: _stupeo_. Taken again and too vague, anyway. He was the only one who understood its relevance to himself. 

_stupeosc_. _Stupeo_ and the first two letters of his last name. 

The green check mark reappeared next to the field. It was available. 

Finally. Ignis whistled out a quiet breath as he went through the rest of the form. 

Two minutes later, he would be placing a call to Prompto, tapping on the speaker button again to keep his hands free. “Iʼve done it,” he announced, putting his coffee to his lips. “ _stupeosc_. Look through your followers, it should be there.” As for himself, he scrolled through his photo feed now dominated by Promptoʼs shots of his everyday life at Midgar. He was, after all, the only person he was following. 

“ _The one with the coffee and glasses?_ ”

“And only,” Ignis confirmed. That was an old photo he took in the office and never got around to deleting yet, the main subject being his glasses because he wanted to show his optometrist how unevenly they sat on a surface. As a small icon, though, the defect was practically invisible. 

“ _Ooh, there it is! You did it!_ ” Now that the initial excitement was over, there was no need for Prompto to be screaming so loudly through the phone. “ _Now to tag you in our groufie!_ ”

“Thereʼs really no need—”

“ _Done!_ ”

Or, maybe there was. Well, what else could Ignis do but to thank him? If that was a thing that could be done. 

For the rest of the afternoon until dinner, he sorted out his clothes he would wear for the next week, looked through their pantry to make a list of groceries for next week, then finally went for that dinner he had been thinking of. 

The rest of the evening was spent on his phone, looking through the gray market for some cheap materia options and then tickets to future _Honeybee Inn_ shows. As expected, both of them were expensive depending on the quality one was going for, but it was good to set some benchmarks for his purse. Heʼll think about it, he thought, as he reached under his mattress. 

The beep of a notification stopped him and brought him to his Lifestrm app. Prompto had posted a new photo of a table loaded with grilled stuff and two mugs of beer, looking out to the blurred out lights of Midgar at night. The wonders of plate-living. Across him, a young man with black hair, dressed in a black shirt with a familiar black brace around his left forearm was gazing out to the city. That was how he recognized him to be his best friend, Noct. 

_1,000 FOLLOWERS!!!_ the caption read. _wow, i can't believe it!! thanks everyone for your continued support!!!_ Of the one-thousand accounts that followed him, he wondered how many of them were active interaction. There were a few congratulatory comments but not enough to balance out the hundreds of likes he received. 

He tapped out a message to show his support: _Congratulations, Prompto!_

Prompto replied almost immediately, _thanks, ignis!!!_ followed by a hugging emoji. Ignis had to smile at the sincerity of his gratitude. Another beep came through the phone, a tiny window gliding down from the top to inform him that:

_@honeyboy_gladio followed you!_

Ignis sat up straight suddenly. Gladio… _Gladio?_ Why would he—

From the same app, a private message came through—from no other than the man himself. 

_Ignis scientia?_ asked the bubble next to Gladioʼs profile photo of him in his full Honeyboy outfit. 

Ignisʼ heart matched the racing beats of a drum but he replied quickly enough, because he wasnʼt in the habit of letting a message sit unanswered for too long if he could help it. He thought he might return him the same question for his response ( _Gladio…?_ ) until he realized, he didnʼt know his last name. 

_Indeed. Good evening, Gladio._

_Hey, i didn't know you had a lifestrm too! Would've followed you sooner!_

_I just got one today because of Prompto._ Ignis looked at the time, trying to ignore his wild palpitations. _Don't you have a show tonight?_ Since it was a Saturday, he figured it would probably be a major show, maybe one headlined by the proprietor himself. 

_5 minutes til i'm onstage. You here tonight?_ That made Ignis laugh. Literally. Oh, how optimistic of him. How sweet of him, though, to look for him. 

_Would that I were, but no. I'm at home._

He sent another message. _Perhaps in a year. I haven't started saving up for a ticket yet._

 _Awwwww!_ Gladio matched it with a sad face. Ignis looked sympathetically at it. _Well i'm up soon. Chat with you later!_

 _Break a leg, Gladio!_ That was what they said in shows like this, right? 

Another beep informed him that Gladio liked that message, though he had refrained from replying. After all, he was already pressed for time. But the fact that he had bothered to contact him at all… 

Biting his lips to restrain them from smiling, Ignis hid his face behind his phone. Turns out he, too, had won the lottery with Prompto.

—

That good mood lasted for all of a weekend.

Come Monday, Ignis was at war in the office again. His morning started bad, with a sinkhole opening up in Sector 8 that was connected to the No. 1 Reactor explosion. That meant Ignis had to set aside his work to put together a repair and inspection team with a project deadline of tomorrow. Tuesday was more or less the same, with the addition of a busted pipe in the No. 4 Reactor which shut down electricity for most of the sector, delaying a number of major projects and locking them up in the meeting room until late. 

By the time Wednesday had rolled in, Ignis was beat. In the cafeteria, which resembled an aquarium of souls stolen by the black wind of the train graveyard, he couldnʼt even remember what heʼd done to his dinner or what it tasted like. For whatever reason, it was just an empty plate now, with a fork at the side and a half-empty glass of water. 

As for him, he didnʼt know what he was doing with his time, either. Just browsing idly on his Lifestrm feed, both seeing and unseeing the happy faces and dramatic cityscapes from the three people he was following—Prompto, Gladio and Cindy. A new photo came through just now. 

It was Gladio, kissing the sticker of a bottle of beer. His lips looked even fuller that way. _Later night, it's just you and me baby!!! #firstmonth_ His first month in the nightclub, then? How envious—looks like they were going to throw a party for him. 

_Happy first month, Gladio!_ he commented. 

_Thanks ignis!!!_ he replied. 

These short conversations will have to do for now to sustain his weary spirit. 

Someone rapped for his attention on the table. Ignis hoped he hadnʼt been caught smiling but he turned over his phone on the surface and looked up to his visitor. “Noct. I thought you and Prompto wouldnʼt be coming in today?” This was a surprise. 

Noct shrugged. “Change of plans?” Even now, in his school uniform, he kept his black arm brace on. From the edge of his cuff, Ignis could make out the sunshine glow of a yellow materia. “Gramps told me I had to come in so I did.” He shifted his weight to his other leg and rubbed the knuckle of his right fist to his nose. “Promptoʼs still in school, though, working on his project.”

“And how is _your_ dissertation going?”

“Ehh,” Noct shrugged, “itʼs going.” Ignis didnʼt have the privilege to be close to him in the same way he was close to Prompto but from what he could tell from their brief encounters and his internʼs stories, this was really the kind of person Noct was: indifferent, with a streak of laziness, though perhaps quite charming if Prompto was willing to stick with him. And he considered Prompto to be a good judge of character. 

In fact, he didnʼt know much about Noct at all. Only that he was the same age as Prompto, went to the same school as him where he was taking up political science, and had a full name unlike anything Ignis had ever heard of before: Noctis Lucis Caelum. It sounded like some fantastic name that would come out of a show from Shinra Flix but as far as real life application went, Ignis didnʼt know what his family did. Maybe they were into law? 

“Oh yeah,” Noct tossed a sloppy hand to him, “Prompto said you were willing to help.” Well, he didnʼt say that exactly. The real story was that Prompto had asked Ignis if he had time for a little part-time gig and that Noctʼs father was looking around for someone who could help him with his paper. Just basic stuff like reviewing for typos, turning bullet points into flowing paragraphs, nothing that required a college degree. Ignis had mentioned his interest but Prompto hadnʼt followed through after. 

As it so happened, heʼd delivered his message to Noct just fine. “Well, Iʼm free this weekend,” Ignis offered, leaning back to his seat. He almost made himself laugh when he thought about his _Honeybee Inn_ funds. 

“Yeah?” Even when Noct smirked, there was a quality of being sleepy in it, as if he moved his lips with just enough angle to show a change in appearance. “Might take you up on that.”

“Let me give you my card.” Ignis started to get up. 

“Donʼt bother,” Noct stopped him, raising a hand as he stumbled back a half-step. “Just gonna get your number from Prompto. By the way,” from the inside of his open jacket, he drew out a white envelope and handed it to Ignis, “I dropped by to give you this. Itʼs from Prompto.” Prompto? 

Ignis flipped the envelope to inspect it for any clues of its content but aside from his name at the front ( _Ignis_ ), there was nothing to go by. It wasnʼt sealed, though. “Thank you, Noct,” he said. He set the letter aside, turned to face his internʼs friend with a polite smile. “Iʼll let him know I received it.”

“Sure thing.” Noct swayed to his other leg again. “Anyway, Iʼm on my way home. Need a ride?”

Ignis refused him with a little wave of his hand. “I still have some work to do,” he reasoned. And he did but also, he always stayed late on Wednesday evenings. “Thank you for the offer, though.” 

“See ya, then.” With a heavy wave of his own, Noct waltzed away from the table, yawning as he went. Like Ignis said: sleepy. 

Alone again, Ignis finally opened the envelope and brought out the folded letter, a short one scribbled onto a lined sheet. _For my 1,000th follower!_ it read and inside it:

A voucher bearing the _Honeybee Inn_ ʼs logo and a view of its empty massage room. It was for a discount on a shoulder and back massage, available only from Monday to Thursday—the low days of the week. 

Ignis put his friend on the phone instantly. “Prompto, I just got your note from Noct. I didnʼt think you were serious about the prize you were saying.”

“ _Oh!_ ” Prompto laughed, though not quite as jovially as Ignis was used to. He wondered what was happening in that project of his. “ _Well, uh, youʼre welcome, right?_ ”

“How much did you pay for this?”

“ _Oh, I didnʼt. Someone offered those vouchers for a trade in our school forum. She said it was supposed to be for her parentsʼ anniversary but that they didnʼt need it anymore?_ ” Oh dear. That sounded like a third party was involved. “ _Anyway, so I asked to trade one of my old cameras for it and she accepted. But since I could only afford one, I thought maybe you could use the other. You know, weʼre like honey-partners!_ ”

“You didnʼt offer this to Noct?”

“ _I did but he said he wasnʼt interested and I realized itʼs not really his type, too._ ”

Ignis nodded to his empty plate. “I see.” He folded an arm around his waist to carry his elbow. “Well, I certainly must insist to pay you back for this now.” Good thing he didnʼt get those materia from Saturday, then! “Though I do appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“ _Actually, I…kinda thought of something,_ ” Prompto revealed so shyly, Ignis could imagine he was wringing his hands together. “ _Since I donʼt want you to spend any money on this…do you mind if you come to my house and cook my dinner for umm…a week?_ ” Again: how thoughtful of him. 

Ignis smiled. Even if heʼd been busy, he would have been unable to refuse that kind of request. “Not at all, if you insist that is fair trade.” Prompto hissed out a, “ _Yes!_ ” “Your parents wonʼt mind?”

“ _Nah, and we probably wonʼt see ‘em, anyway. Sometimes Iʼm not even sure they still come home, yʼknow? I never see them around here anymore._ ” The way Prompto spoke of their absence, Ignis could tell that this was nothing new to him. 

Still, he couldnʼt help but feel a little heartbroken for him. Or did he just have an idealized vision of what a complete family ought to be? Since he never had one… 

“ _So…next week?_ ”

“Next week sounds grand,” Ignis agreed. 

When they hung up, he wondered suddenly if Prompto was really looking forward to his food, or if it was his company he was hoping for. Living with oneʼs parents but constantly missing them, there was no way that kind of life wouldnʼt affect someone. Feeling alone, even if one wasnʼt really, was not always very easy. 

And having lived that kind of life for a good third of his years, Ignis could sympathize.

—

What better way to blow off some steam after three endless days of problems than to engage the Shinra Combat Simulator?

As soon as the dome room had fallen apart to be replaced by a virtual field, Ignis slipped his new daggers from their sheaths and spun them around for a backhanded grip. His choice of opponents for tonight were three infantrymen from the Public Security Division, a new challenge after having mastered combat against the persistent sahagins he used to test on. While these ones likely wouldnʼt be jumping high to impale him with their spears, they had fast-shooting rifles that could end him before he could even cross the distance. Ignis still couldnʼt gauge how he fared against that disadvantage. 

He had all of three seconds to lay down a vague blueprint of his survival before he was dashing out of the line of fire, taking the long way around the room to get to the nameless shooters. The idea was to get them to break formation or shift their mode of attack just long enough for him to breach their ranks. 

It happened when Ignis had drawn so close as to put a soldier between him and another one at the back that the latter target had to put up his rifle before he could injure his buddy. Ignis darted past the middle soldier, dipping for an upward strike along the side of the soldier at the back. The cut gave him enough time to lock his grip around the wounded manʼs arm and fling him to the last soldier as he circled back. 

That left the middle soldier wide open for a burst of _Fire_ Ignis pitched at him, as though it were a ball. While he was distracted from the spell engulfing his form, Ignis went back to the first two soldiers, now back on their feet, their guns pointed. 

That exercise took him a total of 16 minutes to beat. Plenty of time to make mistakes and die, he thought, as he walked out of the dome, thanking its supervisor for keeping watch of the time for him. After that, he went off to the gym to cool down on the tracks. 

“Ignis!” Despite the late hour, though, it wasnʼt empty. Senior Manager Ferro from the weapons division was there, in a set of matching hoodie and trainers, himself walking on a treadmill. He waved him over. 

Ignis waved back and came up to the machine next to his to get started on an easy pace. If it were up to him, of course, heʼd prefer to find a different machine where he could gaze out to the cityscape through the glass walls on his own, but he was already found and it would be impolite to insist otherwise. “Fancy meeting you here, Sir,” he greeted him instead. 

“Thanks to the directress, I donʼt often get the chance to work on my belly anymore.” Ferro laughed as he gripped it. It wasnʼt pronounced at all, although it was visible, but for a man his size, the girth of his waist was hardly worrying. “I try to make a visit at least twice a month, though. Just enough to keep my cardiologist happy.” He gestured to Ignis. “And you? I hope you donʼt mind my saying this but,” he was nodding in approval, “I am quite impressed with your physique!”

That made Ignis laugh, because what else could he do with that surprise compliment? Then again, hardly anyone around here saw him in a tank top and a pair of jogging pants. “Thank you, Sir. I try to keep healthy and come up here once a week,” he replied. 

“I do miss my youth when I see folks like yourself,” Ferro returned kindly. “How is Prompto, by the way?” Oh, so he remembers him. 

“Heʼs doing well,” Ignis answered, ramping up the speed on his treadmill. “Quite busy with school work.”

“As should be expected from a young man like him,” Ferro noted with a deep nod. “Do try to extend a little understanding towards your intern, Ignis. Iʼm sure heʼs doing his best.”

“Indeed, of course,” Ignis laughed politely. That was completely unnecessary but old people humor could be like that. He could hardly blame them for feeling negatively about their age if they could no longer enjoy the opportunities they once had. “Certainly,” he added on, just so he didnʼt come off as rude. 

He enjoyed a few moments of silence after that. 

“And then,” Ferro began anew, gazing upwards to the ceiling, “you have scums like this.”

Overhead was a television screen, tilted down for every machine that was available. The news was on, the default channel, showing a man with black hair tumbling down to his shoulders as he marched down the steps of the courthouse, head low to avoid the media pressing in on him from both sides. Four of their peacekeeping infantrymen were escorting him to a waiting car, trailed by a woman in a sharp dress suit who was his lead lawyer. _Morie Ruled Innocent_ , the thick headlines read at the bottom of the screen. 

“ _…despite public clamor demanding a reinvestigation and a retrial of the suspect,_ ” the disembodied voice of a woman reported. “ _The verdict follows a shocking turn in the proceedings after several victims retracted their statement and claimed they were pressured by Midgar Medical Center to speak against the suspect. Morieʼs legal team is discussing pressing charges against the hospital._ ”

“Unbelievable,” Ferro scoffed, shaking his head in disappointment. “Innocent or not, heʼs still a petty criminal who took advantage of his fellow citizensʼ freedom and lives.” Ignis wished he could tune out of this political discussion. He turned up his speed another notch. “Whereas he should be contributing to the peace and prosperity of the people.” Ah indeed—the Shinra creed again. 

“ _The suspect is still facing multiple counts of kidnapping and coercion,_ ” the reporter went on. “ _Prior to this, he was involved in the alleged murder of the war criminal Clarus Amicitia._ ”

—

At 10 in the evening, hardly anyone boarded the train to the undercity stations anymore. Ignis found himself a spacious coach with only four other passengers, taking an empty couch in the middle.

At the second station, one of the passengers, an old man, exited the car, raising his hat to a younger man who stepped through with a nod. His clothes were old and stained, and he carried his wrist possessively to his chest. 

Injured. Ignis could tell at a glance of his movements that he was injured, even before he saw the cut on his cheek or his swollen lips. Unfortunately not an uncommon sight down there. Something everyone learned to turn a blind eye to throughout their sordid lives. 

He averted his eyes when the wounded man took the couch next to his. Self-consciously, he adjusted his glasses. 

The train ride went on. At Sector 4, a mother and her young daughter got off. At Sector 5, a weary man, some years younger than Ignis stepped out. That left him alone with the poor man who had fallen asleep on his side on the couch. 

Just as the train pulled out of Sector 6, Ignis got up and tiptoed carefully to the snoring victim. He looked far worse up close—blood matting his hair to his eye, cigarette burns just under his jaw. Ignis knew what kind of organizations lingered under the plate. He knew, also, that it was a fact of life everyone else was better off ignoring, and that included him. 

But, at the very least, he could do him a rare charity of waking him up. “Sir,” he called to him, keeping his hands to himself. Best not to leave any prints behind, just in case. In fact, he was already risking his safety by doing this man a kindness where the security cameras could see him. “Sir!”

He flew back up to his full height when the injured man shot upright. Wild eyes, blood pooling in one of them, searched the car until they landed on him. 

Ignis let out a huff. “Weʼre approaching Sector 7 very soon,” he informed him. 

The flabbergasted man could only nod, looking confused as he appeared to look next for his wrist, still pressed to his chest. 

Ignis left him that way. He stood by the doors and waited for the train to stop. He stepped onto the platform. 

Past the loud bar (they were singing to someoneʼs birthday), through the winding path, he kept his ears to the manʼs uneven shuffle. At the last turn leading to his apartment, however, the steps had disappeared. 

Ignis couldnʼt stop himself from whirling around to look for him, though he didnʼt know what else to expect aside from what his ears told him: the stranger had left him alone. 

And that was that about him, Ignis told himself. But no matter that he couldnʼt care for his welfare, he only wished the man had gotten home safely. He wondered if he ought to leave a hint with the Watch about him… 

He shook his head. Told himself, _Leave him be,_ and marched on home. Down here, community was more valuable than the money one could share. 

But so was self-preservation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, im happy i got through the obligatory slow chapter, too. hopefully the next ones won't be like that, lol. but that also means that more content warnings will be added as the fic progresses and i'll make sure to add an additional note before the chapter about it
> 
> anyway thanks for the wonderful reception! do stick around ❤️


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added _fake science_ and _prostitution_ to the tags!

By the time Thursday had rolled in, Ignis didnʼt know if he could still make it to Friday. On the bright side, no new problems seemed to have cropped up since he came in that morning, and he actually managed to enjoy the luxury of having his lunch on time. 

But that was all he had in the way of good news—by and large, everything else was still the same. People were still angry, projects were still delayed, plans were still bloated and the petition to increase their divisionʼs budget and manpower was declined again. Everyone took that hard; it had been ages since any one of them could remember going home on time. 

For Ignis, it was starting to look like another late night for himself. Supposedly, he was working on documenting the Sector 8 sinkholeʼs expenditures and progress for a lunch meeting the next day, but couldnʼt even remember why he had been staring at a table of figures since he returned to his desk with coffee. Something was wrong with it, for sure—but he just couldnʼt remember _what_ for the life of him. Earlier, when tomorrowʼs meeting was announced, he had been determined to finish the document and the presentation before he called it a day. 

Ignis realized now that he would be lucky if he could just finish the document before dinner. As for the presentation, he thought maybe he could just come in earlier the next day to get it done. 

He let out a deep groan as he peeled his glasses from his face and massaged his eyes. Planet preserve him, but he was so tired. And he was so tempted to call in sick the next day but he knew his ethics would never forgive him for it if he ever did. 

He raised his eyes to his screen again. Saw only numbers that were bereft of meaning. This was bad, his sharp mind had decided to quit on him. He needed a distraction—something that could shut it off and give it a fresh perspective when he came back. 

Ignis pushed down his laptop, picked up his phone and wallet and his mug of coffee as he rose. Where he was going to go, he didnʼt know. Something ought to come up on the way down, he thought. 

Scanning his desktop for anything else he might have missed, his eyes alighted on the square envelope from last night, branded with his name. _Ignis,_ it said, as if it was beckoning to him. 

Ignis returned himself to his seat, leaving all his stuff on the towering paper tray beside him, to take the envelope and inspect its contents. He flipped the voucher on its back to read the fine print, while the note reminded him that it was his prize for giving in to peer pressure. 

Before he could change his mind, he picked up the phone at the right side of his desk and started to dial the number advertised on it. 

To his surprise, he connected easily, and was picked up shortly after a few rings. “ _Thank you for calling the_ Honeybee Inn _massage suite! Would you like to make a reservation?_ ” They did a good job putting a Honeygirl with a lovely voice in the line. 

“Yes,” Ignis confirmed, tapping the voucher softly on his sealed laptop. “I also have a discount voucher for a back and shoulder massage.”

“ _Let me take note of that for you, Sir. Would you like to leave your name?_ ”

“Ignis Scientia.”

“ _Ignis…? Sorry, was that Kiensia or…?_ ” She sounded properly embarrassed. This woman was trained for this job. 

He spelled out his last name for her and confirmed it back. 

“ _All righty,_ ” she chirruped. “ _And when would you like to book your massage, Sir?_ ”

“Is there an available time for tonight after 7?”

“ _Mmm, let me put you on hold for that, Sir._ ”

She disappeared for a minute. Ignis took a sip of his coffee and checked the screen of his phone. No new notifications waited for him. 

“ _Thanks for waiting!_ ” the Honeygirl sang upon her return. “ _I can put you at 8:30 tonight._ ”

“Yes, please do so.”

“ _Okay, Sir. Could I have a contact number for this?_ ”

The Honeygirl went on to read back his personal information as well as his terms for reservation. He had to be there by 8:00 at the latest and pay in full to confirm his slot. A no-show would result in the loss of his booking, et cetera, et cetera… 

As soon as heʼd put down the phone, a message came through to his mobile from the _Honeybee Inn_ , thanking him for his reservation (insert the same details from the phone call here) and ending with a note that they were looking forward to making his sweetest dreams come true. 

After that, he was back up on his feet and headed out once more with coffee, phone and wallet. He still didnʼt know where to go, but it would probably be somewhere that would let him escape from that call he just made.

—

Did he feel guilty for booking that massage? No, not really. He needed a change of pace from the endless repetition of meetings and late nights if he wanted to make it to the office the next day. Otherwise, he might just keel over and…not get up.

Did he feel embarrassed, though? For needing a break? A time to enjoy his selfishness? No, it wasnʼt that…and it wasnʼt like he was missing any deadlines for this. 

Did he feel…shy, maybe? For giving himself a reason to visit the place after that one lovely night he just had? 

…yes. Yes, he very much did. 

He took a detour, a long way around the inevitable, as it were, and looked into some shops before he made his way down to the _Honeybee Inn_ with 5 minutes to spare. 

Which brought him through the back from where he and Prompto first came through, fielding invitations from other, smaller and gaudier bars left and right with a polite hand and a smile. “First roundʼs on us,” one of them offered. “New girls and boys for a personal show!” another one tried. 

“How about some Wutai girls to warm up your lap?” Okay, that was the worst by far. 

It came from a man some years Ignisʼ senior with greased back purple hair, a receding hairline and a ruddy face he would not trust his lunch to. Ignis had to stop in his tracks and shuffle aside when the shorter man would not take no for an answer, even going so far as to hound him until someone finally saved him with a cheaper, kinder offer. 

“Cʼmon, donʼt be shy! Shinra men always love Wutai girls! Iʼll even give you a special price for that.”

Disgusting. Revolting. The lowest of lows. 

Ignis felt like heʼd swallowed something rotten and made haste towards the warm lights of the _Honeybee Inn_. 

There was another line waiting to be let in at the front, and for a second there, he wondered if he could offer a trade with his flimsy voucher for a chance to see Gladio dancing on stage again. But his better senses caught hold of him before he could embarrass himself and brought him up to the gatekeeper with his ticket. As before, he was let through without questions (still couldnʼt show his face to the waiting patrons), though once he was in the reception hall, there was no Honeygirl he could depend on to walk him through the ropes. 

He had to present himself to the Honeyboy behind the counter who verified the legitimacy of his voucher. 

“Would you prefer a masseur or a masseuse, Sir?” He had a voice as soft and gentle as a pillow. 

“I have no preference,” Ignis answered him. 

He keyed that into his tablet. After that, he gave him the key to his locker and directed him to the back of the concierge where there was an old lift that would take him down to the basement, where the rest of the massage facility could be found. 

Ignis felt like heʼd been transported to a different place when the lift doors parted open. Unlike the spacious entertainment club upstairs, this part of the basement was a maze of single-file corridors in dark red wood and faux black marble, squeezing in all the services they promised in the fine print. Past the front desk where he was offered a towel and a bathrobe, both black and lined in gold, were the locker rooms, the shower and public baths, the sauna then finally rows of doors face-to-face, leading into the massage rooms. 

His one was small…a lot smaller, in fact, than what the voucher had advertised. And he could smell the sewage closely here, under the layers of floral bouquet sipping from the hardworking oil diffuser. It stood atop a stout chest of drawers at the corner, next to a slender vase with a single yellow flower. Not that he expected much—it was a discount voucher, after all. They wouldnʼt sell one of their more sophisticated services for cheap. As long as they knew what they were doing, then Ignis was fine. 

He stripped off his bathrobe, hung it over the coat rack near the drawers, and then left his glasses in its pocket. He held onto the towel around his waist as he climbed on top of the bed in the middle and waited for his service face down. After a hot shower, a few minutes in the sauna, and now lying in a quiet room, Ignis was pretty sure he would fall asleep before he met his Honeybee. 

“Ignis Scientia?”

Ignisʼ eyes shot wide open. Heʼd completely missed the sound of the door but there was no way in all of the Planet he would have missed that bass voice thrumming deep in his chest. Like black coffee turned into a song. It was a sure way to wake him up but just in case he was wrong, he pushed himself a little off the bed and whipped to the Honeyboy, nudging the door shut behind him. 

Gladio greeted him with a smile bright enough to illuminate the Honeyhall. “Hey, it _is_ you! I wasnʼt sure ‘cause your hair is down.” 

“Gladio!” Oh, what Ignis might have done to himself if heʼd traded that voucher for a show and missed his Honeyboy! Wait— “ _You’re_ my masseur?” Is he serious? 

“Yeah,” Gladio confirmed; he was, indeed, very serious. “Cherry at the front desk told me you didnʼt mind getting a guy so I called dibs.” In other words, he could have chosen anyone else to service but _he chose Ignis_. “Dʼyou want me to get someone else, tho—” 

“ _No._ ” Ignis didnʼt mean to snap at his gracious masseur like that but to his defense, heʼd been caught quite off guard. Gladio looked ready to reach for the door knob and Ignis had been poised to jump off the bed and stop him with his hands. “I, I was simply surprised that you did more than dance. I hope I didnʼt offend you.” At least he was being honest. 

Gladioʼs look of surprise melted away into that handsome, easy confidence that always charmed Ignis. “Hey, donʼt worry about it. But yeah, some of us do,” he shared, making his way to the lone chest so he could start pulling out the drawers. Ignis started to relax. Well now, he was _really_ awake. “I mean, you wonʼt see the star dancers doing this gig except for a special price but for beginners like me, we got a lotta time in our hands they could put to use. What flavor oil are you in the mood for tonight? Peppermint? Vanilla?” Should he make a joke that he only knew how to cook them? 

“Um…” Ignis shook his head. “Iʼm afraid itʼs my first time.”

“First time here?” Gladio glanced at him, top drawer open, a clear flask in hand. “Or first time getting a massage?”

Ignis tilted his head to his right. “The latter,” he admitted. 

“Oh yeah?” He did well to be honest because Gladio was grinning again. If he kept that up, he may find himself responsible for resuscitating a swooning Ignis. “Lucky you, you got me!” Oh, wasnʼt he just? “First time means lavender,” he decided with a snap of his fingers, sealing all flasks back inside the chest except the one he carried. 

“You certainly inspire confidence,” Ignis complimented him, putting himself back onto the bed as Gladio approached, dragging a tall stool with him. “I see youʼve had experience.”

And Gladio looked proud of it when he drew up a smirk. “Just a little here and there.” Lifestream take him now. 

Ignis had to smile while he watched him pour a little of the oil onto his broad palm. He could hardly believe that _Gladio_ was actually going to touch him, _caress him_ with his bare hands. _Bare. Hands._ His heart was bouncing like a wild animal trying to escape his chest. What sort of good deed had he done to deserve this? He needed to know so he could do it again. 

“Right.” Gladio rubbed his palms together. “If you allow me, Iʼll get started.” 

Ignis nodded. “Please do.” He tried not to hold his breath. 

Gladioʼs hands landed gently onto the back of his waist, sending out a giddy tingle to his shoulders that tapered into soft electricity down to his fingertips. A warm blanket spread out over the rest of his back when Gladioʼs touch climbed up to his shoulders and down onto his biceps. Sweet lavender filled his nostrils. 

His Honeyboy went back to his starting point and began pulling at his sides like a baker tearing dough. His hands were heavy, and gloriously hot, and rough along the palms and the pads of his fingers which, he said to himself, gave his touch an addictive texture. Ignis closed his eyes to absorb the moment. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He could hear the smile in Gladioʼs voice. “Let me know if you feel any pain.”

Ignis shook his head. “Not at all. Itʼs quite soothing.” Though he was only saying this because he was enjoying the heat and the attention. “There.” He caught him pressing his hands onto the back of his last ribs. “That feels good.”

“Right here?” Gladio pushed again, adding a little more force. 

Ignis hummed between his lips. “Yes, right there. A little harder, if you please.”

“You sure?” Despite that, Gladio dug harder with his thumb. 

That was when he felt it—a resisting tightness that he felt even down to his ass and his knees. His mouth snapped open, and a deep, “ _Ohh,_ ” snuck out of him unwarranted. “Perfect. Thatʼs just perfect, Gladio,” he confessed in dazed groaning. He could feel that problem spot getting softer under his expert touch. 

“Seriously?”

Ignisʼ eyes fluttered open again. If this had been a dream, this would be the part where he woke up and realized that he still had work that morning. In any case, that was definitely not what he was expecting to hear from his masseur. 

He glanced back, or tried to without getting up from the bed. “Is there something wrong?” He raised his shoulders a little. 

Gladioʼs warm hand fell on his closest one and guided it back to the mattress. “Donʼt move,” he told him, but Ignis had already caught it with his swift eyes—the crumpled look over Gladioʼs brow, that concentrated frown on his lips. 

His fingers traveled along his spine, testing other parts of his muscles, stopping time and again to knead a little. “This hurt?” he asked his customer. 

“No,” Ignis answered. “It feels quite good, though.” It was difficult to shake his head while he was watching Gladio work. He had the look of studiousness about him that killed Ignis with curiosity. He wanted to know the things that caused it. What made his brows draw close like that, so that he could keep looking at it. 

Those big hands found his crown and his chin and turned his head gently facefront. Ignis forgot how to breathe. For a guy with such huge hands, how could he move so lightly like a bird? “Stay still.”

“Okay.”

Those thumbs drew circles over his shoulders and the part between them. Ignisʼ face tightened like his muscles, groaning out a long, “Mmm…!” through his lips. “You werenʼt lying, you _are_ quite good at this.”

“Yeah. And youʼre damn lucky I saw your name in the list.”

Ignis followed Gladio making his way back to the chest of drawers, but this time, it was so he could remove his top hat and hang it onto one of the pegs reaching up for it. “You mind if I take my hat off?” he asked too late. In any case, Ignis didnʼt and had said as much. 

He rather preferred that sexy knot he tied his hair in. Made him look clean and busy and what a way to get Ignisʼ imaginations and desire going. Is there no look this man could not do? He could appear in a sack of Chocobo feeds and that would still drive Ignis wild with titillation. 

Gladio was back to his side, only this time, he was squeezing around his biceps, then his forearm, then he ran the back of his hand over Ignisʼ upturned palms. “What did you say you do again?” He went around the bed until he stood facing Ignis, who couldnʼt stop himself from eying the bulge between his legs. 

“I didnʼt,” he managed to answer, still, trying not to jump when Gladio fell on his calves and brought them face-to-face with each other. Ignis swallowed down a materia. Gladioʼs eyes shone with a fire hidden behind his irises. They were amber, he realized, then. Like medium roast beans or toffee. Or rum. All the good things in life. “But I work as a junior manager in the Urban Planning Division of Shinra Company.”

“And—” And his scars were gone, each hidden under a layer of cosmetics. The wonders of stage magic. “—do you go out in the field?” Gladio made a gesture over his right shoulder, as though he were carrying a bat along his back. “With…a sword?” That was a ridiculous question. _Why_ would he come to that conclusion? 

Ignis stared at him under knitted brows and shook his head (or rolled it left then right). Though— “Though I do carry daggers.” He softened his features to share this. 

Gladio nodded as if that made everything sensible. “Thatʼs probably why. Well.” He shifted where he crouched. Ignis wondered if there was a materia that stopped time for everyone except himself so he could already kiss those damn lips of his. “You’re either a real tough guy, or your muscles are so damn stiff, you can hardly feel pain anymore. With the pressure Iʼm applying on you,” Gladio raised his right hand as if to demonstrate his lecture, “any other client would have complained that I was trying to break their bones.” What should he do to make Gladio touch his face with that hand? 

Wait, what was that again? 

“I beg your pardon?” Ignis sputtered. “Itʼs flattering to hear but Iʼm not quite convinced thatʼs true.”

“Daggers are handsy weapons but they ainʼt just all about the jazz hands.” Gladio rose, then, and marched back to his side. Ignis followed him with his head. “The power from your strikes actually comes from here.” His hand alighted on the lower half of his back, and the prolonged touch was thrilling Ignis more than it was decently possible. Oh dear, what would he do if Gladio caught him with steel between his legs? “You build it up, use these girls as anchor and torque,” he grasped both his biceps, “and then the power flows through here.” He patted his hand. Planet help him, but Gladio was actually touching him more than was necessary. 

“This part right here takes care of movement, too,” Gladio went on; his hand was on his lower back again. “And this part catches it.” His hand climbed up to his shoulder blades. “So thereʼs a lotta tension going around between these two. Right hand dominant?” Ignis nodded. He squeezed at a soft spot at the base of his neck on his right shoulder. “This hurt—?”

Ignis yelped suddenly. “ _Yes_ , yes it does!” It was like someone was shooting _Thunder_ and _Blizzard_ straight through his skin. 

Gladio pulled back instantly. “Sorry,” he winced. “Anyway, all Iʼm trying to say is, I got my work cut out for me. If youʼd gotten someone else, they wouldnʼt know how to treat you properly.” What a lovely thought. 

Ignis shifted a little so he could watch Gladio pouring more oil into his palms. “Am I in a bad way?”

“Nah.” Gladio smiled to him with chummy smugness. Ignisʼ heart made a little jump. “Just need someone to treat you right.” Like he would? Heart and cock be still. “Donʼt worry. Iʼll take care of ya.” Oh, he was lost, so lost. 

Gladio dribbled a little oil onto his back, as well, and spread it all over his skin before he started at the bottom and pressed searching thumbs onto the small of his back. He seemed dissatisfied, though, because his hands settled themselves around his towel, like he wanted what was in there. “You mind if I lower this?” _Planet preserve him—_

“Not at all,” Ignis encouraged him easily despite his thundering heart. But in all honesty, he literally didnʼt mind if Gladio lowered his towel so he could spread his cheeks and plug his dick in. He should stop thinking about these thoughts but his proximity to Gladio was making it difficult to think rationally. “Go ahead and do what you must.”

_What he must_ was to pull and tug on Ignisʼ towel until he could slip it out of its haphazard knot and lay it over his ass so that the excess fabric cascaded on each side. Ignis had to bury his face on the bed because of all the lewd thoughts that just sprung up in his head and he knew that if Gladio caught him blushing, that would be the end of it. He was effectively naked now, and if Gladio reached inside, he would know he was a little hard for him. Ignis swallowed back a treacherous moan before it betrayed him. 

When he folded his towel just before the crack of his ass, his cock stirred in excitement. What would he do if he slipped an oily finger in and started to fuck him? Should he plead decency and ask him to stop or raise his ass and be honest about what he wanted? Though he knew this was just his imaginations running wild and when Gladio tested his exposed muscles, he wasnʼt teasing him and throwing off mixed signals. No, there was no way this could be possible. Ignis had to stop and distract himself before he ruined everything between them. 

“What you told me just now,” he began, genuinely curious about what he was about to ask. “You found that all out just by touching my muscles?”

“Pretty much,” Gladio revealed. Satisfied with his findings, he coated that skin with oil, too. It was getting impossible to ignore his arousal. “And your pain tolerance is pretty boss. See, our bodies tell us more than what we think. Now I ainʼt a professional but Iʼve only been wrong a few times with these things.”

“Thatʼs quite intriguing, though.” Ignis dared to show his face again. “I expected to be told that Iʼm quite overworked but you found out I carry a weapon. Are you sure you arenʼt just playing down on your talent?”

“Like some prodigy?” Gladio laughed, his cheer filling the entire room. It just occurred to Ignis, then, that they probably shouldnʼt be talking like this. That they should respect the silence of the room and its purpose to relax the customer but he would be a fool to trade the heavy sound of Gladioʼs voice for it, and Ignis was no fool. “Nah, this ainʼt talent. Just some skill I learned.” He added another layer of oil in his hands. 

“Did you study under a master of the art?”

“Guess you can say that.” Gladio grinned. “Right, I got all your stress points mapped out so Iʼm gonna start working my way up from here.” His hand just above his ass. “It could get a bit painful depending on the amount of tension but it ainʼt a proper massage otherwise. Also, if you start to feel things down there?” Gladio was actually looking at his face when he said this. “I mean…between your legs?” Oh shit. How did he— “Donʼt worry about it.” He threw in a wink for good measure. “Itʼs totally natural.” Oh, is it? 

Maybe that was supposed to turn him on but in effect, it only made him feel more comfortable with the dangerous effects of Gladioʼs good looks and good humor. Ignis started to breathe easier, as well. Even when he could only respond with a very vague, “I see.” After a pause: “You sound like youʼve had your fair share of experiences…”

“Hey, Iʼm a man, too, you know? I know what itʼs like to get hard when youʼre feelinʼ good.” Gladio poised his fingers at the tip of his back. “‘sides, youʼre a decent guy. Iʼve had others who ainʼt even anywhere near half the class you got.”

“I suppose I shouldnʼt be surprised that— _ohhh!_ ” All his words sizzled out of his head when a dull shock erupted from the base of his back, cold and warm at the same time. Ignis gritted his teeth, brows pulling tighter the longer he bore the discomfort. “Hurts…that hurts!”

“Too much?”

“No, no, keep on.” In some awkward way, he waved for Gladio to ignore him. “Itʼs a good kind of pain. I didnʼt realize this is what a massage feels like.” Ignis groaned inside his mouth. 

“More like a massage ala Gladio,” his masseur chuckled. 

“Iʼve certainly hit the jackpot,” Ignis returned with his own smile. 

“You were sayinʼ?” The tension had eased, and now he was kneading the rest of his flesh, like a baker hard at work. 

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps talking would distract him from the painful part of what was supposed to be a relaxing experience. “I was saying I shouldnʼt have been surprised that there have been people who have propositioned you in this work. This is Wall Market, after all. There is hardly anything decent here.” _Aside from you,_ he would have added. 

“Yeah, got that right,” Gladio answered. He was working his way up to his waist now. “I know I work for the guy but I gotta say, I got mad respects for what Andreaʼs done to this place. Yʼknow, the whole selling dreams instead of bodies kinda gig. Heard it was bad before he rebuilt this place. Some of the old customers still come around expecting the same service, though. One time, I got a guy who asked me to massage him inside, too.”

“And how did you handle that?” Ignis pretended he didnʼt feel guilty for having that same thought. 

“Gave him the same treatment Iʼm giving you now. Only he ainʼt as tough as you are so he feels like I gave him a fracture on the spine. Didnʼt come back to me,” Gladio snickered with some pride. 

“A consummate professional,” Ignis commended him with a little laughter. 

When he was satisfied with his lower back, Gladio readjusted the towel to cover him up to his hips. Maybe a part of him should have been disappointed but in reality, this act of decency put a little cheer in him. Those skillful hands found his middle back now, prodding for another one of the stress points heʼd identified earlier. “Got anywhere to go tonight?”

“No.” Was he asking him out? 

“Cool. If you got time to spare, I wanna introduce you to someone I know. Goes by Madam M, owns a hand massage parlor at the east side of Wall Market. Sheʼs the best in town for what she does.”

“Iʼve heard of her,” Ignis said. “Some of my colleagues have hired her services. Isnʼt she—” He stopped to moan when Gladio dug on a sore spot near his side. “Yes, thatʼs just perfect. Isnʼt she expensive, though?”

“Not with me she ainʼt,” Gladio assured him, working the knots off his muscles. They must be quite close, Ignis thought. The next time he was moaning, it was from the relief Gladio was feeding into his skin. “I was thinking I could give it a shot and complete your massage down to your fingers but it doesnʼt sit right with me that youʼre not getting the best.” How terribly sweet of him. “Besides, I might be questioned for spending too long with one customer, yʼknow?”

Ignis hummed his agreement. “That sounds fair.” Though he wouldnʼt have minded having Gladio to himself a little longer. And for him to touch his hands… “Donʼt you have another customer after me, though?”

“Nah, Iʼve reached my quota. So we can go together.” Together. What a lovely idea…

—

Gladio must have spent the longest time on his upper back and his shoulders, which had Ignis stitching together a song of pain the deeper Gladio dug into his muscles. When he asked him to turn over, he carried the farther end of the towel up to protect Ignisʼ privacy as he moved before he continued.

A true consummate professional, and quite good-looking at that. Here was a man who threw himself to his work, concentration riding over his brows despite the softness of his coffee eyes gracing his form with their undivided attention. He could see the strain on his thick shoulders where his muscles rose and fell with the effort, along with the swelling of his meaty biceps. Later on, he would ask him to sit up for a few finishing touches on his arms and shoulders. 

With his guidance, Ignis carried his hands to the back of his head while Gladio pulled at his elbows or used them as a lever to roll his joints. Ignis had to wonder if this was still a part of the normal package, or if this was Gladioʼs personal touch to his care now. He wagered it was the latter—Gladio was a smart man who knew the body that he touched, and Ignis was enjoying himself too much to complain. He liked how it felt good, and he was flattered by the extra attention he was being given. 

He wished he could keep a record of Gladioʼs even breathing, and the scent of his musk, intermingling with the fragrance of lavender oil. With his face averted, Ignis shuttered his eyes and breathed it in quietly while Gladio rolled his shoulders backwards. He wondered how it would feel like to fall asleep, wrapped in this aroma.

—

“Right, thatʼs all for me today,” Gladio announced, pulling a fresh towel for himself from the chest of drawers to wipe his hands on and dab his face with. Ignis shrugged on his bathrobe and put on his glasses again. “Thereʼll be a bit of pain for the next few days but they shouldnʼt be debilitating. If they are, tell me, weʼll get it fixed.” Ignis hoped it was debilitating, then. Or, maybe he shouldnʼt, he still had a presentation to work on the next day. Alas. “Put yourself in the sauna for five minutes exactly then skip the shower.” Gladio reclaimed his top hat and fitted it around his head. “Iʼll meet you out front.”

Ignis had to borrow a timer from the front desk to take with him to the sauna because he knew he was going to fall asleep otherwise. After he wiped himself down with a damp cloth, Ignis suited up, thanked Cherry with a little nod, then headed up to the empty reception hall, thanking the Honeyboy by the counter as he left. 

Gladio stood waiting by the entrance just as he said, dressed in an open hoodie with a white shirt inside. His hair was let down and his scars exposed to the world again. He carried the same gym bag from a week ago and raised a hand to wave. 

“Feeling good?”

Ignis nodded, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag on his left shoulder. “Though I suppose I feel a little strange, having my back kneaded like a piece of dough.” Gladio cracked up. “Despite that, I understand now why some of my colleagues seem obsessed with massages.”

“Think youʼll come back for it?”

“I admit, itʼs an attractive notion,” Ignis replied honestly, facing Gladio. “But Iʼm afraid youʼve set the bar quite high.”

“Hey, just let me know when youʼre dropping by.” Gladio flicked a hand to him. “Weʼre allowed to have regulars, anyway. Just one way to climb up the ladder, yʼknow?” Could he! 

Ignis smiled at the tip. “Very well, Iʼll do just that.” What a good idea it was to get that Lifestrm app, then. 

“Great.” Gladio beamed. “Anyway, letʼs go this way. I know a shortcut.”

His shortcut, unfortunately, took him back the way of the heckling bars which were still at it more than an hour later. Ignis didnʼt mind the majority of them but the purple-haired creep was still there, welcoming a few gentlemen into his disreputable establishment. 

“Hey, youʼre back!” And apparently, he still remembered Ignis. He turned his face away, taking one step ahead of Gladio to move past him. “Oh, you like boys? Hey, I got Wutai boys for you! You want big muscles and dark skin? You like ‘em skinny like a girl?”

“Itʼs fine, Sav, weʼre good.” Gladio intervened before the scum could stick his oily face on Ignis. He kept him back with two large hands on his shoulders, clapping him amicably. “Thanks for the offer but weʼre good.”

“Hey, Gladiooo!” For whatever it was worth, Savʼs attention had at least moved on to a different victim but it wasnʼt like Ignis could go anywhere without him. “Hey, you like a threesome, donʼt you? How ‘bout it, you, your friend and a Wutai boy, eh?” He laughed at his own joke, smacking him on his bicep. “Or is it a girl? Do you like girls tonight?”

With a thin smile, reminiscent of his patience, Gladio said to him, “You donʼt know what youʼre saying,” and guided him firmly back to his doorstep. Sav persisted with his sales pitch. 

Ignis could hardly wait for Gladio to rejoin him and come up to the surface. “Who _is_ that disgusting man?” he hissed. “The way he peddles humans, you would think he was just hawking peppercorns from Wutai!”

“Everyone just calls him Sav, so thatʼs what I call him, too.” The way Gladio shook his head, though, it was clear that he disapproved of the manʼs stubbornness. “Guyʼs relentless. Didnʼt think heʼd be out here tonight, he normally works Wednesdays and the weekends.”

“And why does he claim to know you?”

“Think he claims to know everything.” Gladio turned to Ignis. “One time, he told me to forget about my wife and take his for a special price.” Ignis had to double check his fingers in case there was a ring heʼd missed. “Another time, heʼs recruiting me to a gig with President Shinra himself. Says the guyʼs into roleplaying and theyʼre looking for someone to hold the lights.”

“Unbelievable.” Ignis rolled his eyes. 

“Exactly,” Gladio agreed. “Heʼs one of the hazards of working late nights. If Iʼd known he was out there, Iʼd have taken you through the longer way. Least thereʼs less of him out there.”

From where they ascended, they merged into the busy thoroughfare leading up to the majestic mansion overlooking its dominion of debauchery and capitalism and turned a smaller pathway that indicated the east side of the market. Madam Mʼs parlor stood out with a vintage orange glow and the sparse zen decor that flanked its wooden door. The interior was obscured by a homey mosaic at the top of it. 

Gladio pushed the door open before he knocked. Inside, everything was made out of dark wood and covered in a red wallpaper adorned by artistic flowers that looked classic in a way that retro architecture did. Ignis followed closely behind but had to stop and turn away with his eyes squeezed shut the moment heʼd stepped in. The lemongrass and mint in the incense was so intense that they stung him in the eyes and made them water. Like cutting onions but just a little worse. 

How the proprietress could turn so gracefully behind the counter like a dancer despite the attack was unknown to him. And when she welcomed them with a singsong purr, Ignis was almost convinced that this attack was just his imagination. 

The only time she stopped, in fact, was when she recognized Gladio and swept to him, resembling a bird in her intricate black robe. With pins in her dark hair and a wide fan in her hand, Ignis thought she was an old actress who couldnʼt quite let go of the stage. 

And she _was_ good friends with Gladio—Ignis could see this in the way he smiled as he leaned down to kiss each of her cheeks. Old friends? From the same massage teacher, perhaps? Madam M was short enough that in their fullest heights, she came up only to the bottom of his chest. Her skin was porcelain smooth, and she was proud of it, even pulling one side of her robe down to expose that shoulder. 

“Why, what brings you here to my humble parlor? Ah,” finally, she caught sight of Ignis whoʼd blinked enough times to get used to her overpowering incense, “youʼve brought a friend, I see.” She reached for a proper introduction. 

Gladio stepped back just as Ignis stepped up with a businessman smile, gripping her soft hand. “Ignis, this is the famous Madam M. Madam, this is my friend—”

“Ignis Scientia,” he introduced himself with a shake. 

Madam M seemed to smile at his name. “A pleasure.” With a decisive twist, she turned his hand over and ran her fingers lightly along his palm. “A man of great class and elegance. And yet—” Before he could retrieve his hand, she pulled it back with a sure strength and pressed her thumb firmly in the meat of it. 

Ignis tensed at the snap of her fan on his chin. He shot Gladio a glance of help. She had a look about her that seemed intrigued, as if she couldnʼt put her finger on his existence. “Where did you pick this man up from?”

“Hey, take it easy,” Gladio chuckled, putting his hands on each of Ignisʼ shoulders, bringing his heat and his scent close enough for his knees to quiver. Talk about being unhelpful. “Heʼs a friend from work.” He wasnʼt but Ignis supposed there was little point in insisting on the truth. 

Even when that story didnʼt seem to sell with Madam M, who squinted her eyes at Ignis in suspicion. “Such graceful fingers,” her eyes wandered down to his upturned palm again, “and yet how deeply they hide its ferocity.” In other words, not the type to work in an entertainment venue? 

“Perhaps it is simply the time I spend in the kitchen,” Ignis tried for humor, because this was getting a little weird. 

Whether or not Madam M bought it, she flashed him a smile and at long last, let him go. Gladio stepped back to give him some space, too. 

They followed her back to her front desk. Ignis pushed his glasses back. “Well, what manner of massage do you desire?” She unfurled her fan and began to wave it so gracefully towards her. Ignis started forward. 

“Give ‘im the best ya got, Madam.”

Ignis whipped at him and stared him down. The best she got would definitely mean the most expensive in the list and that was simply a luxury he couldnʼt afford. Massages were self-care but so was having enough money to survive until the next payroll. “Unless, of course, the mistress of the house has _other_ recommendations,” he prompted her, turning to pass the cue to the proprietress. This was the part where she would offer her list of services, he hoped. 

Madam M responded with a bright laughter, covering her chest with the breadth of her fan. “Subtlety is such an art best appreciated with fine execution.” She folded her fan onto her other palm. “And for such a gentleman, I recommend only the finest of our courses.” Well, of course, she would. She was a business with a rent to pay. 

Ignis was left with nothing to do but to nod his head in appreciation of her compliment. “Then please take care of me, Madam M.” Heʼll just have to come up with a way to undo the damage on his budget later. How bad was it that despite this blow, he couldnʼt get mad at its initiator because he was _Gladio_ and he was quite infatuated with him? 

“Weʼll settle up the bill after the service has been rendered. I donʼt treat all my patrons this way, I assure you. Now, then…” With her entire form, she turned gracefully to the lighted circular arc that led into a corridor, indicating the curtained room with her open fan.

—

If anything, Gladio wasnʼt kidding about Madam Mʼs expertise—she certainly knew her way around the field, unearthing deep-seated tensions like a gardener would snap a weed without breaking the soil. When Ignis complimented her, though, and mused that she must be a proud jewel of her teacherʼs, she only laughed and poked a secret path along the lines of his palms, declaring she taught herself at a young age. A self-made woman who rose above the hungry and the powerless. So despite his assumption, she wasnʼt acquainted with Gladio through training.

“So?” Madam M rose from where she perched by his bedside and alighted a featherlight hand on his shoulder. “How do we feel?”

“Quite rejuvenated, thank you,” Ignis answered. It was true, though; when he clenched his fist, he felt that his fingers had been blessed with a new flexibility. 

Madam M laughed deeply in approval. “We recommend relaxing in silence for 15 minutes for you to truly appreciate the benefits of the massage. Iʼll leave you here for now.”

“Thank you again, Madam,” Ignis expressed to her as she left with swaying hips, drawing the drapery after her. He thought that was…very generous of her. Quite generous, in fact, that she wouldnʼt chase him for his fee after that luxurious service she insisted on him… 

He got on his feet and brought himself carefully to the curtain. Pulling it a little, he peeked through the slit to catch the madam returning to her place by the counter. Gladio stood facing her. 

“I assume you will be footing the bill?” Madam M inquired quietly. 

No answer from Gladio, but she opened her drawer to tuck something in and passed him a white note. He stuffed it in his hoodie pocket. “Where did you meet this man, really?”

“Like I said,” Gladio chuckled, bringing his elbows to the desk. “I met him at work.”

“I thought he might just be some naive patron you took a shine to, but judging from the state of his clothes and your generosity, heʼs not rich. He doesnʼt look and sound stupid, either. Thereʼs fire in his hands, bright as it is unquenchable.” She paused with the briefest heartbeat. Leaned over to Gladio. “Heʼs already burnt you with the heat of his touch, hasnʼt he?”

Gladio laughed again. “I donʼt know what youʼre sayinʼ, Maʼam.”

Madam M looked affronted when she straightened up and put out her hand. Gladio shook his head when he handed her his right. She took his large hand in both of her smaller ones, planting secret seeds along his palm. 

“A man who desires peace wouldnʼt so blindly burn himself. Youʼve had a taste of the rough life.” She returned his hand to him. “But I guess you havenʼt had enough yet.”

Gladio shrugged. “Well, what can I say? This life chose me. And I only got one of it, yʼknow? Might as well live it the best I can.” He paused for one second. “Actually…need a favor from ya. ‘bout a certain CNC.”

“Will this cost me?”

“Things go well, youʼll profit from it.” Her favorite word. 

Madam M didnʼt take long to consider his proposal. She nodded to her worn wallpaper and led the way out the door. 

And then Ignis had the entire parlor to himself. 

_So,_ he began, crossing his arms in thought, _what have we learned from all this?_

Gladio was richer than him. Probably made more money dancing for Andrea Rhodea in one month than Ignis did slaving around for the Shinras in four years. Which was both ridiculous and highly plausible. 

He and Madam M also had enough history to speak without pretenses with each other. Madam M also has a side job on fortune-telling, maybe. His hands were on fire. 

He glanced at them. As far as Ignis was concerned, that was bullshit. Gladioʼs explanation about his muscles seemed scientifically sound, at least, but Madam M spoke in lyrical poetry. Ignis wasnʼt keen to put his trust on that kind of person, for all that Gladio did. 

She mentioned, though, that he had had a difficult past…and he agreed to it. Ignisʼ mind went to the scars on his face. 

But none of those points still explained why Gladio would treat him to an expensive hand massage, after going the extra mile with his own service earlier—a losing situation. He acted as if he wasnʼt struggling under the plate, which was just plain ridiculous. 

Did he really like Ignis? He supposed theyʼd become something more akin to friends now but…Gladio didnʼt seem like an idiot who would spend all his cash on acquaintances heʼd only met a week ago. It seemed more likely even that Gladio was doing all this to prepare him and hire him for something nefarious and illegal…but he couldnʼt see a shade of dishonesty in those eyes. Or perhaps Gladio was just a good actor and he didnʼt yet know him enough to guess his intentions. 

Maybe. That seemed to be the best compromise of all possibilities. 

Ignis huffed through his nostrils. He shouldnʼt be casting suspicions on a generous friend but he really, really had no taste for ambiguity. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the door. Ignis hurried back to his bed and laid down as heavyset footsteps approached the room. For good measure, he turned to the lotus wallpaper over at his side and shut his eyes. That ought to give him more time to settle down. 

He heard the curtain slide open. His visitor paused by the doorway to reconsider his actions. After five counts, he finally stepped through, bearing a whiff of lavender about him. Gladio. 

Ignis pretended a little confusion when he opened his eyes to his friendʼs gentle touch. Gladio was smiling kindly down to him. A man with a face like that, he really couldnʼt imagine how he could distrust him. But how could he appear to be so honest without a clear truth about his actions? 

“Oh dear,” he began, as if it only occurred to him that heʼd fallen asleep. Ignis placed a hand on his forehead. “How embarrassing. Was I out for long?”

“Not long enough to miss the train,” Gladio chuckled. He stepped back as Ignis carried himself up slowly to sit. He rubbed his eye. “Looks like you had a real good time. Ready to go?”

“What time is it?”

“Itʼs almost 11,” Gladio answered. Ignis stepped off the bed and slipped into his shoes. “You probably never expected to be out this late on a Thursday, huh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Please, thereʼs no need to apologize,” Ignis reassured him. “I could hardly be cross with you after how youʼve helped me with my back. Besides, itʼs just as you said,” he pulled at his shirt where it was tucked into his pants, keeping his appearance straight, “it isnʼt too late for the train yet.” 

Out the entrance hall, Ignis went through the motions of taking out his wallet and then his credit card to settle his bill. 

“Ah,” Madam M tapped her folded fan lightly on the palm of her hand, “we donʼt accept tips in this establishment.”

“Iʼm sorry?” Ignis sputtered cluelessly. 

“But if you insist for us to receive your money,” the madam pulled her fan open bone for bone to indicate her parlor, “then it is our pleasure to welcome you again next time.”

Gladio opened the door, then waved goodbye to his curtsying friend. Ignis nodded his own head in gratitude, as well. 

“You paid for me,” Ignis concluded out loud. “And I suppose it isnʼt so I could pay you back, is it?”

“Is it?” Gladio chuckled, smiling at him. Gentle and friendly, without a hint of a hidden motive. “Yeah, no, it ainʼt,” he admitted…almost shyly. A man of great contradictions. 

Side-by-side, they walked along the main way, heading for the Chocobos, past sleepy shoppers and hawkers trying for one last profit before they gave up. Some blues music played overhead, barely audible amidst a spill of laughter. 

“Why would you do that?” Ignis asked, turning to face him. “You even called me a friend from work.”

“Easier than if I called you a customer, right?” Gladio shrugged. “Out here, it lends a different meaning. Might say Iʼm your sugar daddy or something.” Ignis snorted, turning his face to the ground to hide his amusement. “Besides, we _are_ friends, arenʼt we?”

“If this is how you treat friends youʼve had for a week, Iʼm quite intrigued as to how you would show your appreciation for those youʼve had for a year.”

“What, you didnʼt like it?” Gladio stopped, suddenly, eying him with a look of surprise. His heart laid exposed in his stare, and he heard its voice through his mouth. A few days ago, this was exactly one of those things that drew him to his Honeyboy. 

“Youʼve put me in an awkward position of suspecting your intentions despite my gratitude for your kindness, is all,” Ignis explained, facing him squarely with his body, fighting honesty with honesty. “Had we been in each otherʼs shoes, you can be sure I would not have extended the same courtesy to you.”

“Hey, I ainʼt expecting anything in return…” He sounded like a boy despite the depth of his voice. 

“And yet I wish you were,” Ignis persisted. He had to be heard out…because he wasnʼt keen for them to go on this way, either. He wasnʼt…ready to cut his ties with him yet in the interest of self-preservation. Like someone holding out for something more, something to outweigh the bad. “Because, then, I would at least understand what kind of friend you are, and what sort you expect me to be towards you. As it stands, Iʼm quite baffled by your actions tonight and find myself…” Well, heʼd come this far, might as well say it out loud. 

He sighed as he spat out, “Distrusting you. Iʼm sorry, Gladio.”

A flash of pain twisted Gladioʼs features into a sour look. Ignis had hurt him with his wariness. But he didnʼt hide it, and faced Ignisʼ frown with a wounded aspect. Brave? Or just too damn authentic about himself? Could a man really act this all out? 

“Yeah, I guess it was too much, huh?” he mumbled after a long moment. “For a second meeting…” He shrugged, his hand sweeping sideways shallowly. “Iʼm sorry if I hurt you. Or made you feel disrespected, like I could buy you with my money or something.” Kind words, and he didnʼt even make any excuses. That was a sincere apology. Ignis could trust himself on that. “I wasnʼt thinking smartly, I guess…”

“So why did you do it?” Ignis asked again, and he hated this but he felt as if he was waiting for an explanation that was agreeable to his principles. He nudged his glasses. “I suppose now would be a good time for me to tell you something about myself, as well, being as we are friends.” He made sure he looked him in the eye, and Gladio didnʼt turn away. “I dislike ambiguity. And I could detect no clear motive behind your generosity tonight—no one else has done the same for me ever since.” He took a step closer. “Weʼre in the slums, Gladio. People with golden hearts like yours wonʼt survive for long and yet I feel…no, I _know_ you arenʼt so gullible.” Heʼd had a rough life, they said. 

And yet some might choose to fight against roughness with softness. Gladio scratched his head, a little shame-faced, redirecting his eyes to his boots. 

“I want to know why you would waste this kindness on me,” Ignis finished. 

“Yeah, okay,” Gladio conceded, facing him again. “I got it. I understand.” He tossed his hand a little to his side. “But, give me until Monday next week. That okay?”

Ignis frowned. What kind of a request was that? “Must you schedule it?” Why? So he could come up with a viable excuse? Had Ignis gone off the script and now he was patching things up as he went? 

“Yeah, thereʼs just…” Gladio rubbed his nape. “Something I gotta do first.”

“Like what? Is it trouble?”

“Nah.” Gladio waved his concern off the air. “It ainʼt trouble. And this wonʼt have anything to do with you. Just myself.” When Ignis persisted with his suspicion, Gladio straightened up and raised a swearing hand. “Look, I promise I wonʼt lie, and I wonʼt run away. I ainʼt makinʼ excuses. And Iʼm not the type to back out just ‘cause I canʼt take the heat, either. Just give me until Monday.” He tossed his hand to him again. “You want a real reason and I wanna give it to you with a clear head.” It was ironic; technically, Gladio still remained suspect by avoiding a straight answer…and yet he gave him a lifeline he could hold on to, didnʼt he? 

What other choice did Ignis have, though? It wasnʼt like Gladio owed him or did something warranting revenge. He simply wished to do away with the vagueness, to know his real meaning behind his actions. And Gladio promised he would do just that. If he genuinely wanted to fool him, he wouldnʼt have picked such a strange arrangement to tell his truth. An expert scammer would have every part of the story ironed out before he sought out his mark. And why him? Ignis wasnʼt rich and he didnʼt rub shoulders with the big bosses of his company. 

With a sigh, Ignis accepted his terms and nodded. “I suppose a few days wonʼt hurt. Thank you, Gladio.” And for him, he spoke with sincerity, as well. 

Gladio grinned at him suddenly, relaxing back into his usual self. And then Ignis remembered the blow that struck his heart. “Hey, thanks to you, too. Donʼt worry, I wonʼt make this mistake again. So I wonʼt pay for your Chocobo, either.” They returned to their path. 

“A shame,” Ignis smirked easily. And just like that…he felt like he could trust him again. “I was starting to get used to this.” So perhaps Madam M was wrong. Perhaps he really was stupid. 

Gladio responded with a tickled laughter, shutting his eyes as he threw his head back. He wondered—if he was any less good-looking, less kinder, less honest about his emotions, would Ignis give him a chance to be known by him? To hear his version of the story just so he could twist his logic and deem it acceptable? What happened to his discerning wit? All those lessons he learned to survive life on the ground by himself? He knew the answer to those questions, of course. 

He just didnʼt have the guts to admit it to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter, new set of tags lol. this chapter contains _explicit sexual content_ , _light bdsm_ and _sexual fantasy_ (more specific warnings in the tags)

Ignis is back in the massage room underneath the _Honeybee Inn_ sooner than he realizes. Gladio has invited him to return so he comes running back to his hands. 

To that bed, soft and smelling of clean laundry, mixing well with the lavender and mint incense that fills the room. The candles are alight, giving off a calm mood for his weary body. Lotus flowers fill the walls, and he feels a gentle wind from a fan blowing at his back. 

Ignis is on his stomach, half-asleep on arms crossed under his cheek. Those tough fingers are rubbing hills and valleys over his back, those warm palms spreading outwards, with no direction as if the intention is only to touch him. He feels the blood along his chest and his belly, nipples getting hard in delight for that attention. 

“You mind if I lower this?”

Ignis shakes his head. 

His masseur takes it off, and fills his large hands with the shape of his ass, squeezing it and rolling it. Ignis puts out an approving moan to guide him along his ministrations. Those hands grope him for as long as he likes it, smacking him lightly as if to make him jiggle like a jelly before theyʼre kneading him again like a dough. It becomes a cycle—smack and knead, smack and knead. 

With fingers full of his cheeks, two thumbs open him up and pierce him through. 

Ignis jumps with a moan, turning around to watch Gladio rub an oily hand between his cheeks. Blood rushes down to his glans, and he worries about staining the pristine sheet with his cum. He doesnʼt have time for this, he has a lunch meeting the next day. 

“Gladio, stop,” he instructs him. “Not here, I donʼt want to ruin the sheets.” Ignis wants to reach out to him but there are other hands, invisible ones, holding his wrists and ankles down. 

“Iʼll pay for it,” Gladio assures him. “Iʼll pay for all of it.” Cock in hand, he starts to sweep his leaking head up and down Ignisʼ puckered entrance, which catches his hot flesh each way he passes. 

Ignis moans and buries his face to the pillows. He struggles again but those unseen fingers only hold him in place. Gladio is still touching his ass as heʼs teasing it. “Gladio, stop, youʼre embarrassing me,” he manages in a shy breath. 

“You’re sending me all these signals and youʼre telling me to stop? Donʼt be a bitch, Ignis.”

Ignis flinches, his cock twitching at the insult. He struggles again. Gladio is still rubbing himself on his hole. “Gladio, not like this…!”

“You’re such a bitch, Ignis.”

Heʼs wet down there. Heʼs afraid to look because Ignis knows heʼs already stained the fabric. 

“Right, can you turn over for me?”

Ghostly hands help him on his knees to flip him over. Ignis gets comfortable before he allows himself to observe his sleek cock, spilling like a volcano spewing lava. He catches a glimpse of Gladio at the distance, peeling his black robe to hook onto some picturesque cherry tree at the corner. 

Heʼs as large as they come—thick arms, skin glistening with oil, nipples erect as if theyʼd been prepped for the camera. And between his legs, those strong thighs… 

As he approaches, brushing back his long dark hair, Ignis zeroes in on his dick, hanging heavy like a fruit on a forgotten godʼs forbidden tree. He doesnʼt know if he can take it inside him but he wants it, and it fills him with panic and excitement, blood flowing up his head and down his cock. 

He pulls at those wretched hands again just so he can feel them tightening around his bones. They spread him out like an eagle. Heʼs floating in mid-air. 

Gladio will fuck him this way. Itʼs thrilling Ignis more than he can bear. “Who are you?” he rumbles. Gladio draws close enough to squeeze his sensitive fruits at the base of his shaft, sending a sputter of seeds at the top. 

“Iʼm a bitch.”

“Whose bitch?”

“Your bitch, Gladio.” The admission makes Ignis come again. 

Gladio smiles that maddening smirk, pleased by his surrender. “Youʼve been a good boy, Ignis,” he commends him, rubbing a taut nipple under his calloused palm. Ignis is caught between a plea and a moan. “And because of that, Iʼm gonna give you a reward.” 

Heʼs on top of him, heavy as he is hot. Ignis stirs and moans again with uncontrollable desire, pulling, and willing his restraints to pull back. 

“Iʼm going to fuck you raw, Ignis,” Gladio promises him, breath to ear. “Iʼm gonna make you beg my dick never comes off your ass. Do you want that?”

He wants it desperately. His asshole already feels sensitive; he wants it torn wide open _now_ and fucked relentlessly until heʼs _howling_. Swallowing his spit, Ignis nods. 

“Then say it!” he snaps. 

“Yes, Daddy. Iʼm your bitch!”

—

Ignis could barely wait for everyone to spill out of the meeting room before he stumbled out himself. In smooth strides, he managed to deposit his laptop and documents to his work desk and then drag himself out of the office, into the lift before anyone could stop him and give him pats on the back, or whatever it was they were in the mood for that day. His hand slammed onto the ground floor button, as if the impact of his misuse could make the descent faster.

And then he was out of the lobby, into the stylish boulevard that surrounded the Shinra Building, smack dab in the middle of the central business district. The early afternoon sun warmed his cheeks as he turned up his face to the sultry white skies, breathed in the clean air of the upper plate in daytime. This time, he could say it for certain: the worst part of his day was over. 

He walked slowly soon after he admitted the words to himself, allowed himself even to smile and hum a little song with his gaze turned now to his polished shoes. If there was only a park nearby, he would have wanted nothing more than to sit in it and bask in the relief of his temporary freedom before he went back in for a few more hours of gnashing his teeth and pulling his hair. But the park he had in mind had since been demolished, flattened out and turned into a high-scale apartment building. 

So he went for the next best thing for a mini-celebration, and made his way to the first coffee shop he could find in the next corner. 

This one, at least, was blessedly empty. Sweet bread, like fluffy pancakes and maple syrup, wafted from the kitchen, dancing perfectly with freshly brewed coffee. The space was vast, made in brown wood and light yellow tiles, the kitchen separated from the dining area by a long display of cakes, sandwiches and pastries and the cashier. 

Ignis ended up ordering a classic pancake plate and a regular brew, a little dessert to make up for that cold lunch he had, to be delivered to his table. Normally, he chose one next to the window, to get a little sightseeing and people-watching for his entertainment. But for this time, heʼd come out here with the intention to hide. 

So he took one between the counter and the glass wall, relaxing in the plush couch in the company of his solitude and his phone. Earlier, heʼd ignored hundreds of messages in a mad race to finish his presentation and his emails. 

Now he worked through them steadily, his thumbs moving deftly to delete most of them as he went. His notifications became a swiping sport for his thumb. 

About the only one that he tapped and acknowledged was the one that told him that Prompto had posted a new picture on Lifestrm. 

It was a beautiful cityscape, silhouettes of sleepy houses against the wide pinkish hue of the coming dawn. _spent all night redoing my measurements to a point where i really just wanted to give up and fail the project,_ read Promptoʼs caption. _until i went up to our rooftop and saw this BEAUTIFUL horizon! it reminded me that there's always a light at the end of the dark. this too shall pass!! so i'm not gonna give up!!_

_but i'm gonna get some sleep first. GOODNIGHT AND GOOD MORNING!!!_

He added a couple of emojis to accessorize his inspirational message: a moon, a sun and a new day. Several of his followers had expressed their admiration for his photo and his message, even thanking him for the reminder of the good things in life. 

Gladio was one of them, _That's the spirit!! Don't give up, @photo.argentum!!_ matched with a strong arm emoji. 

And then to wrap it all up nicely, a final comment from a _@noctnoct_ that only says, _loser_. 

Ignis caught himself smiling again. His thumb inevitably wandered over to Gladioʼs profile, something he did many times a day. No new photos were added to his gallery, though he did get two new followers since Ignis. 

He shouldnʼt be doing this, he thought. He had already told Gladio he distrusted him but what was he doing? Wandering over to their short chats in the private message, reading every one of them. 

Dreaming of being fucked by him until his dick was swinging like a pendulum, feeding him the dirty words of an adult video just so he could hear his voice demeaning him. That was the most intense wet dream Ignis had had in a while, worse than when he dreamt of riding this fresh-faced porn actor while he was giving a presentation in the boardroom. He couldnʼt remember waking up to a stiffer boner that morning, pushing defiantly against his damp boxers. It would have been the easiest thing to just get off in a towel but after being pounded so deliciously in his dream, it just seemed so wrong to empty out without being full at the back. So he took a dildo, hurried down for a cold shower and jerked off with the toy in his ass. 

How he managed to make it in time to the office was a miracle he doubted he could ever repeat. He should stop before things got worse. Before he earned a tardy record, before he ruined everything between him and Gladio. 

He shouldnʼt be doing this. He shouldnʼt be dreaming of him and his friend— _his friend_ —having sex. Or of his friend at all, whose goodness of heart was still in question. _Innocent until proven guilty_ was certainly a phrase he could apply to this situation, but that didnʼt mean he should be allowing himself to be fooled by his dreams of lust. 

_What am I going to do, Gladio?_ he groaned to his screen. Heʼd barely acknowledged the arrival of his order before he was back to moping. _It isnʼt Monday yet but Iʼm already wishing that it is, so I can dream of you taking me in peace._ That wasnʼt sound logic but whatever, it wasnʼt like anyone could hear his thoughts. He took the phone in his hand to close the app—

_honeyboy_gladio is typing…_

_Fuck_ , did he read his mind?! Ignis felt like he was still dreaming. He knew it was irrational but he also didnʼt stop himself from panicking. He put down his phone before he typed anything unwise in it. 

_honeyboy_gladio_ stopped… 

He stopped—just like that. Ignis went nervously for his coffee, giving it a perfunctory sip while he waited for Gladioʼs message. 

Still nothing. 

_Oh, for the love of—_ After five minutes of silence, Ignis couldnʼt take it any longer and typed out a message. 

_I saw you were typing something. What was it?_

Too demanding. Heʼd been about to press the send button before he caught himself just on time. He deleted half of it and changed the tone. 

_I saw you were typing. Is there something you wanted to say?_

Sent it. Heʼd barely gotten a slice out of his fluffy pancakes before a reply had come through. 

_Oops. Sorry. Wasn't sure we should be chatting until monday, see_

Ignis had to smile at that. Gladio almost reminded him of a boy who avoided his video games until he was done with his homework. Match that with his dashing image and his incredible muscles…it was charming. 

And wasnʼt he just telling himself to stop with these thoughts? 

_Anyway, just wanted to ask how you are. Do you feel any pain from yesterday?_ Gladio went on. For a second there, Ignis thought he was asking about his dream. 

_The back of my shoulders feel a little tender,_ he admitted. _But they aren't otherwise bothersome._

_That's good to hear,_ Gladio replied. _If you wanna put something on it, though, I recommend the da chang herbal balm. I know where to buy it here so just let me know_

_Thank you for the offer. I'll send you a word when I feel that I need it, Gladio._

_Ok. Anyway, I just wanted to check in on you. Got rehearsals for tonight's show and I'm just taking a break_

_Break a leg, then, Gladio,_ Ignis told him. 

After a like and a _Thanks!!_ Gladio became silent. 

Ignis sighed as he put down his phone face first and cut off that elusive piece. _Oh Ignis,_ he said to himself as he filled his mouth with that moist and airy goodness. _Youʼre going to be the death of yourself._ As if to prove it, he only realized heʼd neglected the syrup and the butter until after heʼd swallowed his food. 

He made quick work of his dessert, got up to make his way back to the office when his phone rang in his hand. “Director Reeve,” Ignis greeted his caller. 

“ _Ignis, are you still outside?_ ” He could hear the office in the background and the panic in his voice. 

Ignis braced for the worst, squaring his shoulders like a man donning his armor. “Yes, I am.”

“ _Great! If you can manage, could you get me a box of pastries? I need a dozen, Iʼll need it for my 4 oʼ clock. Iʼm really sorry to ask this of you but Ana is still out in a meeting and she said sheʼll be running late._ ” Oh. Was that all? 

“Certainly, I can manage that.” Ignis was at the right place at the right time. 

After a hasty thank you, Reeve hung up. Ignis made a detour to the counter, then, and ordered a box of muffins, split evenly between three flavors. He gave the money to the woman behind the till, left the change in the tip jar then waited for the pastries as she called the order on her way inside the kitchen. 

It came through silver doors swinging, carried by a man about Ignisʼ age with a cast on his right wrist, peeking from under his white sleeve. He had several smaller bandages scattered around his face, too. 

But it was only when they saw each other, when Ignis received the box across the counter, that he recognized him by the blood in his eye: this was the injured man from the train a few days back. 

Even the man had recognized Ignis, judging by the way that he stared, a noise starting and failing from his mouth. Ignis could feel his heart racing, the pulse in his ears. What should he do? He should never have gotten involved. Effects of paranoia, Ignis was sure, but heʼd always trusted his instincts. 

“Yes?” he managed, somehow successful in keeping his nerves from his voice, pretending this was nothing. Ignis looked on with innocence. “Is there something you wish to say?”

“Uh no…” The injured man was soft-voiced. He finally let go of the box so that Ignis could carry it with his left. “Nothing, umm…thank you. For buying. I mean.”

_Thank you for buying_ was not the kind of parting words he expected from a cafe that sold warmth and friendliness. So was Ignis just to assume that the gratitude was for…something else? 

He responded with a nod, thanked him for the muffins, then left without another look.

—

He put it out of his mind as soon as he stepped through the lift in the company of two more passengers. One of them was an old colleague who had since transferred to the weapons division. They shook hands, caught up as Ignis punched in both their floors and spoke about old teammates and their new lives. The other one was a new face, about two or three years Ignisʼ junior. Short black hair, lithe frame, he could be any rank and file startup. Probably from a rich family if he knew how to put on that haughty look.

To his surprise, he noted a Shinra pin on his lapel. So a relative of one of those Creed loyalists? 

His floor came up. Ignis bade goodbye and left alone. So the new hire must belong to the weapons division… 

He never managed to give it much thought as soon as heʼd left the muffins and receipt on Reeveʼs table and went back to his. Another project was in danger of getting delayed so he spent the entire afternoon pulling strings and teeth just to coax out a promise that that would never happen. And then the day was gone, and dinner had passed. 

Ignis left with a sigh of relief that another week was over, rolling his head with a hand rubbing his neck even though the usual weariness was absent from it. In fact, he couldnʼt remember the last time heʼd walked out of the building without feeling like a Chocobo had barreled right into him. This, he realized, was the true magic of a massage (ala Gladio?). 

He thought he might celebrate it by taking a walk to the train station instead of his usual habit of taking a bus in Promptoʼs absence. Sometimes, he thought, it felt nice to mingle with the upper plate, to just appreciate the sights and sounds borne from the backs of the slums. Eat their food, pass by their shops. 

He stopped at a discreet storefront, with a wooden door and frosted windows so as to protect the disinterested from the nature of their wares. Ignis himself wouldnʼt have an idea as to their market if not for the toys he kept at home. 

Normally, he would have ignored this, preferring to do his shopping secretly online but…well, tonight he was feeling good…and perhaps a little bit daring. 

The door gave only the shiest ring when he pushed it open, just enough for the lone shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman dressed in a sophisticated black suit, to welcome him and ask him for his needs. Ignis looked around briefly, at the clear plastic busts of men and women dressed in underwear and silk robes, before he asked to see their menʼs lingerie and was guided to the basement. 

“Shall I pack this discreetly, Sir?” she asked upon payment. 

Ignis nodded, handing her his card. “Please do.” For what itʼs worth, he thought, he at least got a free hand massage so this shouldnʼt be a huge blow to his budget. Or so he told himself. 

He got on a packed train, got off his platform, then went straight home, feeling a little giddy with his new purchase. 

He didnʼt put it on until after a thorough shower. It was the first thong heʼd ever bought for himself and it was, if he should say so himself, a perfect fit. Black mesh, with a subtle pattern along the low waist band, thin enough to reveal his cock but just to tease. It cupped him perfectly along the front and the back…if that was a word he could use considering the high-cut that left much of his ass exposed. 

Ignis inspected himself by the tabletop mirror, smoothing his hand over his cheeks. What a thrill it would have been if he had somewhere to turn up in like this. Gladio came to mind, of course. 

_Stop that!_ he scolded himself, even when he grasped his dick, stirring at the thought of that large hand connecting with his ass to jiggle it. Ignis felt upset, swallowing down a bitter pill when he stepped out of his new lingerie and changed into his old trainers. That was a waste of money, he shouldnʼt have bought that. He shouldnʼt have given into his damn fantasies and impulse. Tomorrow, he would wash it, stuff it in the bottom of his cedar chest and forget about it. 

He dumped himself in his bed, plugged in his ear buds and brought out his tablet to look for something _safer_ to think about. He had a lot of videos he hadnʼt seen yet, had bought in one of those pack sales from weeks ago. 

One of them was a steam bathhouse, because of course it still had to remind him of the _Honeybee Inn_ one way or another. The first few shots were a slow showcase of one of the actorʼs body—clean face, slightly muscular along his chest, some hair leading down to the towel draped over his waist. The next actor came in after, heavy and bearded, with dark hair and a formed chest and abs. 

_Shit._ In an instant, Ignis knew heʼd made the wrong decision but couldnʼt push himself to end the video. 

The second actor sat down next to the first, and they exchanged awkward pleasantries that went straight to some personal details, as one would in an adult video. The first actor claimed he had a problem where he was unable to achieve an erection and a steam bath, for some reason, was a therapeutic solution for it. To his luck, the second actor knew a way that could help. Which was, of course, to give him a blow job. 

Ignis removed his glasses and left them somewhere safe. His left hand ghosted to his crotch to catch the shape of his cock idly. There were a few instances where the first actor protested his partnerʼs help, but would tell him he felt good whenever his partner checked in on him. Later on, he would be guiding the first actor on his knees on the floor while he penetrated him on the back. After that, he would be sitting on the bench, bouncing the smaller actor on his lap while his dick was inside. 

Ignis bit his lower lip as he squeezed his fruits lightly. Heʼd brought out the lube by then and had pushed down his waist band to free himself from the oppressive fabric. The actors stopped momentarily so they could change positions, the first actor on his back, arms hooking around his knees so that his top could kiss his entrance and then put him inside again. Their breaths and grunts filled his ears with the squeak of the wood under the weight. 

_How about this?_ Gladio asked him as he rode him down. _Does this still feel good?_

_Yes,_ he moaned to the Gladio in his head, breathing through his teeth. _You feel so good inside me._

By then, heʼd kicked off his trainers, slipped lower on his bed and pulled his legs apart so he could reach inside with his sleek fingers. His own breaths were chasing after the actorsʼ _oohs_ and _ahhs_. 

When the second actor carried his partner to fuck him on the wall with his legs around his waist, he and Gladio did the same in his head. 

_You like it when youʼre riding my cock like this,_ was Gladioʼs astute observation, a lopsided grin on his face, his hands full of his ass. 

_Yes,_ Ignis gasped, head stupid with pleasure. _Yes, I do!_

He wanted to see Gladio take him in other ways. On his knees, his hands tied to both with Gladio lying in-between so he could watch him pound him relentlessly. Bent over the massage table with his wrists bound behind his back, feet forced apart. He wanted him to touch him everywhere, too—his nipples, his dick, his balls. Holding him down in a position with no escape no matter how loudly he screamed. 

_Gladio!_ he cried as Gladio ripped him apart. _Gladio!!_

—

Heʼd never come so much from masturbating before.

Now he lied in a daze, his wet hand still stroking his languid cock for the last spurts of his arousal. He couldnʼt place the grunts and groans ringing in his head. 

And then he realized the actors were still fucking each other, the first one on his back, legs high in a wide V, the second one on his knees. He could still watch them clearly under a map of his spend. 

Ignis came alive then with a curse under his breath. He wiped off the screen with a wet tissue in his secret drawer. Wiped his hands, wiped his belly and his ass, his sensitive dick. When he returned to the bed after binning the used tissue, he noticed the wet patch in the middle, right where he came. Heʼd soiled the sheet he was going to sleep on just because he felt too horny to stop. 

He couldnʼt keep the snarl to himself when he raked his damp hair up with his right. This was what he got for jacking off without proper preparation. 

“ _Oh,_ ” the voice in his head moaned. “ _Youʼre right—youʼre so good at this! Iʼm so fucking hard right now. Iʼm so fucking hot and ready to come! Ah…ah…AH—!_ ”

Ignis pulled his earbuds off and pitched them to the wet spot in frustration. This was both the best and the worst experience heʼd ever had since he started touching himself.

—

That night, he isnʼt surprised that he dreams of Gladio again.

Heʼs dressed in nothing but a jockstrap, this time. His dick pushes hard on the crack of Ignisʼ ass while his hands smooth over his chest and his cock, hot kisses gliding along the side of his neck. Itʼs an act of supplication, a piece of foreplay that has become more worship than anything else. Ignis thinks itʼs a good occasion to wear his mesh thong. 

He turns around. Gladio cups his ass possessively while Ignis reaches for his taut nipples with his tongue and his mouth to lap them up hungrily. They both glisten in oil. 

He looks up to Gladio, gives him a teasing smile. 

Gladio reaches down to his teats and does the same for them, but folds his knees and puts his face in front of his heavy cock and reaches for it behind the mesh. His tongue and his mouth are wet and wanting. His mesh is soaked through, and heʼs giddy inside. 

“You want this?” he asks. Ignis pulls out his cock from his lingerie and Gladio drinks from it gratefully. 

Now heʼs fucking Gladio on his knees, those thick arms stretched outwards and tied to a hook somewhere unseen. There are lash marks along his back, like the scars he has on his face. Gladio is his slave and he is the master. 

With the leash in his hand, he pulls Gladio by his mouthbit and fucks him harder until heʼs screaming behind his gag. Ignis feels the pool of his semen seeping through the space between his toes. 

Gladio is on his ass, tongue out as Ignis strokes himself and comes all over his face. When heʼs finished, Gladio wants for more and takes him in his mouth again, sucking him up as if for nectar, chained hands hanging onto the sides of his ass.

—

Suffice to say, Ignis didnʼt sleep well, at all.

It must have been a bad recipe, he realized as he jacked off in a towel. A new underwear that excited him, the fatigue of coming wildly and then changing the sheets, the bliss of a weekend… 

Now, he felt rotten like a withered vegetable, standing in the kitchen like the saddest zombie in all of the Planet while he stirred his coffee. Next to it was a glass of water and his tube of daily vitamins that came in effervescent tablets. He would admit, especially for a guy his built, Gladio would look hot in a slave position but…but… 

But _why_? Just why?! It was just _wrong_ to think of your friend like a pet, whether or not he was hot and sexy! Where the hell did he even get that mental image from? 

He really ought to cut himself loose from pornography. Yes, he was a young man with a myriad of sexual fantasies but this was getting embarrassing. 

Ignis popped open his tube, plucked a tablet free and dropped it in his cup. Dark coffee blossomed slowly into something light and yellowish, bubbles rising up to the surface. Next to it, his glass of water remained clear… 

He closed his eyes, and tilted himself until his head was on the cupboard. He _really_ should think about burning that damn tablet…

—

One good way to take care of his pent up sexual frustration and distract himself from his crush was to exercise, but Ignis wanted something more than what the neighborhood offered him. And he wasnʼt in the mood for some monster gunk that would take all afternoon for him to remove from his clothes and his daggers. What he needed, then, was a safe avenue in which to fight.

The gym in Wall Market was said to offer it, and true enough, he found it there in the form of a boxing ring and some punching bags. 

“Hey, new face.”

The man who welcomed him had a deep and husky voice, full pink lips and winged tips along his eyes that could cut as sharply as his daggers. He had a perfect hour glass shape—wide shoulders, tapered down the waist then expanding again around his impressive hips—and curled black hair pulled back by a headband. 

“First time around the neighborhood? Iʼm Jules, the head trainer.”

Ignis introduced himself with his full name, as he would, reaching over to shake hands with the trainer. 

“Mm, strong grip,” Jules noted. He waved him over and escorted him to the middle of the gym. It was bigger than it was full. At one side of the room, Ignis noted a shelf full of trophies and some weights, on another, the punching bags and some benches for pressing. The boxing ring filled the last side of the room, obscuring the other equipment. “Looking to do a little boxing, are we?” the owner surmised. 

“Yes, I was looking at your punching bags, actually,” Ignis admitted, shifting his gym bag on his left shoulder. “However, as you have noted, I am not from around here, and so do not know how to get started. Are there, perhaps, some house rules and fees I should be made aware of?”

“My house rules are simple.” Jules spread out his thick arms. “Respect each other. Encourage each other, and most importantly support each other!” The last one marked with a downward pump of his fists. “I donʼt charge fees. Instead, we will happily accept a monthly donation for the upkeep of the gym. Weʼre all one big, happy family here, Ignis. And this,” he swept out his hand dramatically, “is our home.” 

“Well, thatʼs quite lovely,” Ignis commended. But it did seem like an ideal place to train if the management was built on friendship. 

“Of course, since itʼs your first time here, I wonʼt expect you to shell out anything. But, if you find that you enjoy it here,” Jules smiled, though the heavy make-up on his face made it difficult to discern, “then youʼre welcome to help out any way you can.” Perhaps if this session went well, he could consider it, he thought. Compared to his usual haunt in Sector 7, this was a truer, functioning gym. 

Ignis picked a punching bag in the middle, marking it with his stuff on the floor just near it before he wrapped his hands and stuffed them in the punching gloves he brought from home. 

Soon enough, he was striking the vinyl with sharp thrusts, not reminiscent of any formal boxing school. He moved, instead, as if with a pair of daggers held between his thick gloves. The flow wasnʼt the same, of course, without the blades to cut the air. 

But the impact felt great on his fists, and in his bones. Real and powerful, enough to ground him to the moment with every smack. This was it, this was just what he needed. Something stronger than the phantom sex scenes he was yearning for. Each strike gained speed and force the longer he went at the punching bag. Sweat rolled down along the path of his sideburns, down his neck, onto his clavicle. It gathered on the lashes of his eyes, trapped by his glasses which had fogged from the heat of his workout. 

With one final burst, the bag shuddered backwards, giving Ignis the space he needed to step backwards himself and catch his breath. By the time he was done, five minutes had passed. 

He bowed a little to the smattering of applause from the handful that had gathered to watch him. That was a pleasant surprise. Maybe another visit to this gym wonʼt be uncalled for. After theyʼd dispersed, he pulled off his boxing gloves, loosened his hand wraps and settled down on a free bench with a bottle of water where he cleaned his glasses. 

He let another five minutes pass before he went back to his feet, gulping down the rest of his drink to the sound of laughter stepping through the open doors of the gym. He turned around, like a compass drawn to the pull of the north. 

He shouldnʼt have been surprised to find out why. Gladio was there, of course. _Gladio_ was there! But who was he kidding, this _was_ his turf. And Ignis was the fool who should have expected him but didnʼt. Now what would he do? Wasnʼt he trying to avoid him? Imagined or real? 

But what _else_ could he do? Except to be captured by his awe whenever he graced the room. He had that honest look of delight on his face again, bumping fists with the black bodybuilder to his right and then clapping the shoulder of the blond one to his left. While they wore tight-fitting latex bathing suits, he went for a tank top that hugged his shape and a pair of trainers to match it with. 

Giving Ignis a first look of those _gorgeous_ arms, freed from the wickedness of a fabric. He swallowed down his water; how could Ignisʼ wet dreams even dare to come close? He knew they would be large but not _this_ large, and yet despite that, they werenʼt all mass and no shape. Ignis thought there was a quality of slenderness to them, still. 

Or was that the full sleeves of his tattoos speaking to him? Another shocker, and one that looked so impressive, they would surely figure into his next imagination. Were they artistic brush strokes? Or were they like the scales of a reptile?

“Ignis?”

Or were they like—oh shit, here he comes. 

“Ignis!” Gladio didnʼt even try to keep his glee in check when he closed the distance between them in an excited jog, like a dog meeting his dog friend in a park. The size of his smile was blinding, just a little worse than the twinkle in his eyes that melted Ignisʼ dirty heart. How could he have neglected this part of him in his dreams? Probably because it didnʼt fit in the narrative of his personal porno, he thought. 

“Gladio.” He nodded. Ignis pretended that everything was normal and he wasnʼt just inventing reasons to put the both of them in compromising positions. “Iʼm surprised to see you here, as well. Donʼt you have rehearsals?”

“Nah, I got off lucky this time.” Gladio indicated the space over his right shoulder. His left wrist had a black bracer of sorts that reached up to his thumb. “Two weekends off for the first time in a month.” Oh, of all the days to venture into the lionʼs den. 

“I see. Congratulations!” Ignis smiled. 

“And you?” Gladio crossed his arms, emphasizing the size of his biceps. Ignis downed the rest of his water while he stared at them. “Youʼve come a long way, havenʼt ya?”

“Word about this gym traveled to me, so I decided to drop by,” Ignis lied, though for the most part, that was the truth. Mostly. “And besides, it isnʼt as if I live on the other side of the pizza.”

Gladio nodded, putting his hands on his sides. “You box?” He gestured to Ignisʼ. 

He gave a cough of embarrassment and shook his head. “I pretend I box but Iʼm only going through my forms with the daggers.”

“Hey, if it works, yeah?” Gladio chuckled. He glanced at the punching bag they stood by. “This yours? Cʼmon, Iʼll help you.” And here he goes again, being an impossible gentleman for Ignis to ignore. And here Ignis comes again, venturing into dangerous territory. 

At this rate, Ignis was sure he was going to dream about a naked Gladio again. He just didnʼt how. He did a little laugh and declined his offer even as Gladio insisted with a long, “Come ooon.” “I shouldnʼt impose,” Ignis replied with equal stubbornness. “Iʼm sure you came here for your own reasons.”

“Sure.” Gladio shrugged. “Doesnʼt mean I canʼt help ya, though.” Well, he _was_ nothing if not stubborn. Was it any wonder that Ignis couldnʼt get him out of his head? 

He gave in with a sigh and a note of thanks. Some things were worth a fight and this wasnʼt one of them. Besides, how could he actually think he could refuse _Gladio_? Ignis tightened his wraps around his hands again and pulled on his gloves, giving each of their palms a punch before he moved himself back in position. 

Gladio smacked the tough hide of the punching bag with his own knuckles before he braced his hands along its side, dipping a little and spreading his knees for balance. Ignis shifted himself into his usual stance, then threw out the first blow. The bag was tougher now with Gladio behind it. He tested it again on his other fist. 

“So when did you start fighting?” Gladio asked him suddenly. 

“Sixteen,” he answered, throwing harder strikes as soon as heʼd gotten the hang of the new challenge. Speaking while punching would certainly affect his breathing, as well, but he thought it might not be a bad experiment for his capacity. “At 18, I joined the Neighborhood Watch.”

“Oooh, big deal.” Gladio grinned. “You still do some watching yourself?”

“Not so much these days,” Ignis admitted, pushing up his speed and blows again. He could hear his breath through his mouth and took a moment to control it before he threw in another hook. “Unfortunately, it doesnʼt pay as well as my work does. And you?” Ignis grunted as he spun and lashed out a mean side cut. “How long have you been dancing?”

“Since I was a kid,” Gladio answered, shifting a little on his feet. “Always had a natural groove, I guess, so itʼs easy for me to follow the beat.” Ignis wondered which part of his upbringing included being ridiculously sexy. “Then since my bodyʼs my own investment, I thought I might learn a little about treating it right. So then I went and trained a bit on massage.”

“You’re quite the studious man, I see,” Ignis laughed. 

“Yeah, I like learning,” Gladio confessed, looking somewhat boyish. Ignis almost missed the mark when his heart swelled. “New things here and there. I donʼt go to school anymore but you donʼt have to stop learning, yʼknow?” A dancer and part-time masseur with a great body and a rich mind? Where does it end? 

“I do remember seeing that post where you were reading a book.” Smack, smack! 

“Yeah!” There was a twinkle in his amber eyes for that, and then Gladioʼs aspect seemed to glow at the topic. What would it take for him to stop doing that?! Maybe if he finally distracted him enough with his good looks, Ignis could accidentally punch him on his stupid, handsome face. “Books are nice. I like books. You do much reading?”

Ignis shook his head a little shyly. Paused to regain control of his breathing and his heart again before he dipped for two uppercuts. “I bought a book once on sale. I thought I might pick up the habit but between work and resting, I never find the time.” So ever since, it just served him as a paperweight. 

“All it takes is one step, though,” Gladio encouraged him. “What title is it?”

“Mm, let me think…” For the next few seconds, Ignis came at the punching bag with sweeping strikes. “I think it was _History In Her Fingers_ by—”

“N. R. Taz?!” Even if Ignis was deaf, there was no way he couldnʼt have heard the excitement brimming through his cheeks. “Damn, lucky you, Iʼve been looking all over for that!!” Oh? Was it that good? “Iʼve only read its sequels, see, but itʼs always sold out since it ainʼt on print anymore.”

“Well, Iʼll be happy to bequeath my copy to you.” That _would_ be a great and very safe excuse to meet Gladio again—

“You kidding me?” Gladio laughed. He shifted again when Ignisʼ strikes were starting to displace his form. “Cʼmon, you gotta read it! Tell you what, why donʼt you read it and tell me what happens?”

“Pardon?” Ignis was hard at breath when he slumped into the punching bag. Gladio took the opportunity to shake his hands and straighten his back. Draw up his lips for a happy smile. “I wonʼt have the time. You should just take it.” 

“One chapter a week ainʼt bad!” Gladio persisted. As he would. “What do you do in your free time, anyway?” _Watch other people fuck each other so I can dream about us fucking each other,_ would be the brutally honest truth that Ignis would never ever admit. 

“I rest.” Ignis went back to punching. “And I work.”

“Seriously?”

Ignis threw a lopsided shrug. “There is simply too much to do in the office so I take some home.”

“Man, thatʼs dull.” When he spoke, though, Gladio made it clear that he sympathized rather than criticized. “Cʼmon, try to read a book. Itʼll take your mind off of things.” Like him? Like pornography? Well, maybe… 

Thinking about it now, Ignis agreed that that wasnʼt an irrational concept. Besides, it would be a healthier hobby than having wet dreams of his friend, for sure. “Very well,” Ignis decided. “But Iʼll have to be in Promptoʼs house all evenings of next week so donʼt expect an update from me until the fortnight.”

Gladio laughed his addictive laughter. “Sure thing, man. Donʼt let me pressure you about it, readingʼs supposed to be fun.” Ignis repeated those words to himself. 

Well, maybe this could actually work, he thought. Somehow, the renewed inspiration to take on this foreign hobby added more power to his strikes but it was clear to Ignis that he was starting to wind down. Heʼd had enough and could feel like heʼd gotten exactly what he came for: a peace of mind to shut up his erotic thoughts and uncertain feelings. 

“Gladio!”

He gave Gladio just enough time to stumble out of harmʼs way before he delivered a bruising kick to the bagʼs guts. 

This time, Gladio was the only one who saw that, but his whistle and applause meant more to Ignisʼ blushing cheeks and shy laughter than the little audience he enjoyed earlier. “Good form!” he said. “Now _thatʼs_ what I call a kick!”

Ignis thanked him for that and finally pulled off his gloves. If this was going to be how every gym session went, then consider him sold.

—

Gladio stayed long enough to guide him through a short cool down session before he pointed him to the shower room. Which Ignis certainly hoped wouldnʼt figure into some dream in the future.

When he stepped out, dressed in a cotton shirt and some jeans this time, he sought out Gladio and found him standing near the shelf of trophies, facing Jules whose back was turned to Ignis. 

“I heard it from one of my boys here,” said the head trainer in his low voice. Ignis stopped suddenly, and pulled out his phone to pretend he wasnʼt eavesdropping again. This was another bad habit he ought to cut but one problem at a time. Baby steps were important. “Some of them have tried but no one has ever finished. Iʼm just glad theyʼre still here.”

“Donʼt worry about me, Jules. Iʼll be careful,” Gladio chuckled. 

“Just make sure you come back home.” Jules patted him on his inked sleeve. “No matter what happens. If things go south, then letʼs just train again.”

“Thanks, man.” Gladio clapped him on his shoulder. “Really appreciate the family.”

Amber eyes finally came up to Ignis, drawing another smile on his face. Ignis realized he wouldnʼt be so damn infatuated with the man if he didnʼt always look so happy to see him. If he ever had to dream of him tonight again, he just hoped he didnʼt come with a collar around his neck. 

“So, off you go?” Gladio approached him, grasping both of his elbows so that his chest looked thicker. Better yet, if he ever _had_ to dream of him again, Ignis hoped it was just as safe as sleeping on his pecs like they were pillows. 

Ignis nodded. “I still have a book to read,” he reminded him. Gladio laughed again. Ignis realized then that he was probably the only man in the whole of the Planet who ever thought of him as funny. 

“Well,” Gladio raised his fist, “Iʼll see you Monday, then.” He never forgot. 

His sweet Honeyboy never pretended it never happened, even when Ignis never brought it up. Even when they talked as if everything was perfectly fine between them. Ignis connected his forearm to his. “Monday it is, then.”

Jules caught him before he left the gym, inviting him to come back whenever he felt like it. He would, of course, he knew this now. Before he stepped through the doors, he turned for one last look on Gladio. 

He was on the monkey bar now, pulling himself up to the chin and then descending gracefully like some warrior angel with muscles for wings. Not quite low enough to touch the floor with the toes of his shoes before he was ascending again to the heavens. 

_Heʼs a good man,_ Ignis decided. _Whatever he did, or whatever he doesnʼt know, he has a good heart._ Suddenly, he didnʼt feel so bad waking up the way he did. He wouldnʼt have come out here, otherwise, and this little trip had done him a lot of good. 

Ignisʼ light mood was such that he had caught himself humming as he made for the Chocobos that would carry him back to the station, walking as if he were in a park. That kind of feeling was definitely there—with most of the shops closed until dinnertime, there was hardly anyone out that morning. Except perhaps for the proprietors sweeping up the front or mopping down the floors after last nightʼs business. 

Or those coming back from the market, a basket full of produce hanging by the arm and a classic red umbrella held over her head, to match the pins in her hair and her intricate black robe. 

“Why,” Madam M recognized him easily as soon as they crossed paths, “if it isnʼt Ignis Scientia. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Madam.” Ignis greeted her with a little bow despite his surprise. “I was just about to leave, actually.” But he couldnʼt just leave her now after catching her with a heavy basket. That would be impolite. “Could I help you with that?”

“My dear, you are quite the gentleman.” Madam M giggled deeply in her chest when she passed her load to him. “This meeting is just perfect. You just saved me the trouble of taking a trip to Sector 7.”

“Indeed?” Ignis followed her by her side, looking down to her shorter height. “A message youʼd like to pass?”

“ _In_ deed,” Madam M echoed him. She brought out her fan from her drooping sleeves and pointed it to him before she pulled it open. “A message for you.”

“ _Me?_ ” What is it this time? 

She didnʼt speak again until they were inside her parlor, still smelling mildly of incense. Ignis left her basket on the L-shaped couch next to the front desk where she opened the drawer and handed him a long red envelope. 

“You might be surprised but I happen to hold quite a position of influence here in Wall Market,” Madam M began just as Ignis opened the flap and pulled out the card within. “And because of that, I hold a little sway on certain matters beyond this establishment.”

“This is an invitation,” Ignis realized out loud after heʼd finished inspecting its content. He faced the woman who waved her fan to herself. “To the _Corneo Colosseum_.” 

“Impressed?” Madam M smiled. “Do you like violence?”

“Certainly not.”

“Well, Iʼll make it worth your while.” So Madam M wasnʼt going to take no for an answer. So much for being a gentleman. “Tomorrow, my champion will be fighting in the Sunday Special Match. Unfortunately, I am expecting an important visit tomorrow so I wonʼt be able to attend. So instead, Iʼm sending you.”

“Why me?”

“As I said,” she sighed dramatically, “Iʼll make it worth your while.” Was she serious? 

“Well, perhaps you will be better off finding someone else.” Ignis pushed the card back into the envelope and returned it to the woman. “Iʼm afraid I must decline—”

“So soon?” The madam blocked the invitation with her folded fan. “And I thought you might be curious about why Iʼm sending you _specifically_ in my stead.” She canted her head to a side. “Arenʼt you?” Who was she kidding? Of course, he was. Anyone would be in this kind of situation, but he wasnʼt a fool who would just say yes to every damn privilege or special treatment afforded him. 

“Tell me why,” he pressed on, frowning. Why was he even considering this? 

Madam M only nudged the envelope back to him with her fan. “To see is to believe. Itʼs tomorrow, anyway.” She waved her fan to herself. “Whatʼs one more night, hm?” How frustrating. Somehow, everyone just decided to poke fun on him and make him wait for his answers. “If you donʼt like what you see, you can just leave.” That was as good as he would get in the way of a reassurance. 

He should just let this go. Drop the card, turn and leave. If she would persist to be vague about such a demand, then it meant she was hiding an entire story about it. But it was as she said: he would find out for himself soon enough and he had the option to walk out. To escape before things got bad for him. Ignis hated ambiguity…but dammit, he hated being kept in the dark more. 

Ignis exhaled. Damn him and damn his mind. He knew then that he would play along with these people, but he would do it for one last time. And then, he told himself that he would and should refuse everyone else after. This wasnʼt how he taught himself to survive. He shouldnʼt have gotten involved with these people in the first place. “What time is the match?” he asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains two of my favorite npcs in the remake ahahahahaha
> 
> thank you so much for all the kudos and comments and hits! very happy to have you all along for the ride ❤️❤️❤️


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all rules are made up! also this got really long, im so sorry

“ _Just be there by 7,_ ” was the only thing Madam M told him. “ _These fights arenʼt scheduled like the movies, they can go really fast or long, depending on how competent the combatants are. And for the love of decency, if you canʼt take a little bloodshed, donʼt eat anything before the match._ ”

But Ignis _could_ take a little bloodshed, though that still didnʼt make him a fan. And also she wasnʼt the boss of him, despite being bullied into this predicament. So contrary to her prudent advice, after taking a shower and dressing up carefully for a night out in town (complete with a leather blazer to look sharp and trendy at the same time), he followed _his own_ judgment and stopped by a popular rice bowl station to get something heavy in before he boarded the train and took off towards Sector 5.

At 7 oʼ clock, Wall Market was already bustling back into business, with neon lights blazing brightly like the stars and the stagnant air full of the din of customers, competing businesses and clashing music ranging from tear-jerking classics to the saccharine sweet popular stuff. When Ignis first visited some years back, a curious youth enjoying his first paycheck, he remembered being quite put out of his element and mumbling excuses everywhere he went. 

Fast forward to the present and here he was, waving familiarly to his coachman who tilted his hat in thanks to his continued patronage. He even stopped next to the Chocobo to give it a fond brush on its plumage to make it dance. Quite the opposite to how he started out, he was now frequenting this place practically every week. 

What his younger self would have said to him if he ever found out. A hypothetical question he enjoyed as he passed through the welcoming gate and turned into the main thoroughfare leading again to the important mansion at the top of the hill. He passed by hawkers waving for his attention like a ghost who heard and saw nothing. 

That confidence might have slipped from his grasp a little when he found himself standing in front of the stone dragon arching over the open red gates of the _Corneo Colosseum_. This wasnʼt like the _Honeybee Inn_ , after all, where he knew what to expect. Down there, in the underground arena, quite literally anything could happen. 

And he wasnʼt sure he was ready for whatever might come of it. Should he have brought a bag? Heʼd brought his daggers on his belt and added two purses onto it for other stuff. Was that enough? Still, there was no backing out now. He was already holding the red envelope and he was already getting in line for one of the three gates. 

The lady at the front, in her high-slit red silk dress, inspected his card and then glanced over his shoulder in search of a shadow. “Did you come alone, Sir?”

“Yes,” Ignis answered, pushing his glasses back. “Iʼm afraid Madam M wonʼt be able to attend this event due to a conflict in her schedule. So I was sent on her behalf.”

“Oh, okay.” She looked a little uncertain when she returned to his card. “Um…please wait for a moment.” With his invitation, she disappeared behind the door. 

The line behind Ignis started to complain at the hold up, some of them muttering in ugly notes about him. Ignis only pulled a little at his lapel to keep his appearance straight. He never considered, of course, that this switcheroo wasnʼt allowed but either way, it wouldnʼt be his loss. 

The young lady came back with an embarrassed bow after three minutes; Ignis saw the time in his phone since he was checking for messages. “Thank you for waiting.” She spoke in a small voice. “Um, normally we would be opening the balcony for esteemed guests like The Trio but since Madam M isnʼt with you…is it okay if we just escort you to the east front? Itʼs the best view in the audience section.”

“Certainly,” Ignis agreed, not knowing the difference either way. He wouldnʼt mind being in the worst seat in the house, even. He wasnʼt here to spectate, he just needed to know enough to satisfy his curiosity. 

He was led through carpeted corridors, descending one flight of stairs until he reached a pair of wooden doors that looked like they needed a fresh layer of paint. Both guards bowed to him and pushed them open. 

Inside was a massive room, big enough it seemed to build a decent house in the upper plate. Several tiers of audiences surrounded the concrete and red battleground at the bottom of the amphitheater, emblazoned by a single white character. The gates through which the champion would be passing was to his left, with a massive screen that played the spinning _Sunday Special Match_ logo. 

“Right this way, Sir,” his escort gestured to the narrow aisle leading down to the front row, where Ignis thought he saw a familiar dark head. The seat next to him, right next to the steps, was free. 

“Oh no, itʼs fine.” Ignis dismissed his guide with a polite wave of his hand. “I found a friend. I should be fine here, this is perfect.” His companion bowed and left him to descend the steps. 

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” he inquired to the audience member slumped deeply into his seat, fingers moving busily over his phone. A bored face turned to him. 

“Hey, Ignis!” Noct sat up in an instant, shifting back in his plush chair. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Thank you.” Ignis took his place, then, just when a shadow loomed over at his left shoulder. When he turned, he saw a large man in a clean black suit and dark shades, carrying a bottle of tea. 

Noct waved him off and then nodded back to the farther rows. “Just go find somewhere else.”

The stranger bowed and did as he was told. 

“A bodyguard?” Ignis returned to Noct, now bouncing on his seat, straightening up a little. “Was he supposed to sit here?” Whatever it was his parents did, they must be extremely wealthy to be able to provide a bodyguard for their son. Was he an only child? 

Noct waved the question off the air. “Nah, itʼs fine. Heʼs a bore, anyway. Didnʼt expect to see you here of all places, though.”

“Indeed, I was surprised to bump into you here, as well,” Ignis echoed. “You’re a fan?”

“Nah.” Noct frowned. He slipped his phone in his pants pocket and pulled a little at his styled fringes. That was probably the first time Ignis had ever seen his bracer in full view—and it was loaded with materia. Yellow, green, purple and even a red one. “The guy who got invited didnʼt want to show up so Iʼm just filling in for him. You?”

Ignis flashed his envelope. “Same story.” He slipped it back in his blazer. “My friend has an important client visit so she sent me in her stead. Supposedly itʼs her champion who will be gracing the stage so she canʼt be completely absent.”

“Oooh, I didnʼt know you had powerful friends, Ignis.”

Ignis smiled. “Weʼre not exactly very close. I am only doing this to secure a future favor from her.”

“Nice, Ignis.” Noct grinned. “I like your style!” He waved his black card. “Think Iʼll do the same here.”

“I highly recommend it,” Ignis replied. 

“Speaking of, you free this coming Saturday?” Noct moved his elbows to his knees. “My first reviewʼs coming up in two weeks and my dissertationʼs still a mess. I was wondering if I could ask for your help.”

“Iʼd be happy to.” Ignis would, also, be happy to receive Noctʼs money. 

“Cool, thanks.” Noct became distracted, then, by something over Ignisʼ shoulder which drew him to the same direction. The women from the audience entrance had come down to them, bearing baskets loaded with devices that looked like phones. 

“May I see your ticket?” they all asked their patrons. 

“And what are those?” Ignis was pulling his invitation out, anyway. “Are they taking our phones?”

“Nah, those are for the fight,” Noct explained. “The Sunday Specialʼs sort of like a viewersʼ choice edition. They tell you about the fighter and then you get to choose the sort of stuff he fights. And then he doesnʼt come with anything either.” He pointed at the basket carried by the woman closest to them. “Thatʼs what those are for. But only certain ticket holders get them. Extra perks. Anyway, if you like the guy, you push a button and hope he gets a weapon.”

“Hope?” Ignis faced the younger man. 

“Itʼs random.” Noct shrugged. “And then some other gamepads get trap buttons so if you like the guy, you can give him weapons and then if you hate him, you can give him traps.”

“You’re quite versed in this, arenʼt you? Have you been to this match before?”

“Not really,” Noct admitted, scratching on his temple. “But they actually just lifted the whole thing from this comic book Prompto and I like. So thatʼs how I knew.” Whoever said comics were uneducational has never heard of this application before. 

“Well, then.” Ignis handed his card to the woman who asked to see it. Noct passed his, as well. “What sort of fighter are we expecting tonight?”

“Oh yeah, you missed the voting earlier,” Noct said. Then he eyed Ignis. “Hang on, your friend never told you about your champion?”

Ignis shook his head. “I suppose she didnʼt think it was important.”

“Geez, thatʼs cruel.”

“Um…excuse me…Sir?” A light hand tapped Ignisʼ shoulder for his attention. She turned to the woman handing his card back. “Iʼm afraid that as the championʼs sponsor, we wonʼt allow you to participate in this part of the match. Itʼs part of the rules.”

“Oh,” Ignis nodded, reclaiming his invitation, “I understand.” He didnʼt mind. He also wondered which billionaire started a war about bias that they decided to just remove the gamepad from the sponsorʼs hands completely to avoid the problem. He watched Noct receive his gamepad and login with some detail on his ticket. 

When the interface booted up—a mini version of the arena on his screen—a green button marked _Help!_ appeared. 

“Well,” Ignis turned to Noct, “Iʼll be counting on you to assist him, then.”

“Sure thing,” Noct said, tossing his ticket to the floor. “Good thing I betted on him. Anyway, heʼs like your typical fighter. Big guy, big muscles, looks like a thug.”

“Should I thank you that you still betted on him despite such dismissive observations?”

“Itʼs not as if Iʼm gonna bet on some monster, yʼknow?” Noct looked at him. “Thatʼs like saying itʼs okay that Shinra isnʼt doing anything about them.” That was a surprise criticism Ignis had never expected from the law student. 

“Are! You! Rea-dehhh!!” the speakers finally exploded, responded to by a crash of howls from the excited spectators that filled the room. “For the maiiin event?!” When Ignis leaned past the barricade to look for the voice, he couldnʼt find anyone standing in the middle. 

Scanning the top directed him to a lone announcer standing near one of the statues in his own box. “Man oh man, what a night it has been! To our faithful fans who have been with us throughout the show, on behalf of his donship Don Corneo, from the bottom of our bloodthirsty hearts,” he bowed to them, his hand on his chest, “we want to thank you. So!” He started to pace his solo platform, hand pointed up. “Which of you heartless bastards is gonna send this wretched soul crawling to his grave?!” 

A wild roar erupted like an army of flies buzzing to life. Ignis turned from the lively host to the large doors parting to reveal his champion. Now to see what this was all about. With enough luck, he wouldnʼt have to stay for long and would be boarding the train home within the hour. “He looks big, he looks strong…but does he look like heʼs got what it takes?! Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, our contender for tonightʼs Sunday Special Match: _Gl-ladiooo!!_ ”

_Gladio?!_ Wait…surely, he didnʼt mean—! 

If there was ever a time that Ignis wished he could doubt his sharp eyes and ears, this was it. But no matter how much he tried to question himself, the truth could never be persuaded—it was _down there_. In the flesh! In a dark gray tank top, a pair of jeans, his long hair let down. He was flexing his muscles, rolling his shoulders back, as if he _knew_ what he was getting himself into! Well for _both_ their sakes, Ignis certainly hoped so but…but… 

“Ignis,” Noct tried to reach him, shaking him lightly by the arm. When Ignis stared up to the screen, it mocked him, too, with Gladioʼs photo in full display, right next to his name. The name he had become so familiar with. “Dʼyou know him?”

“Yes,” Ignis gasped, still working on coming to grips with what was happening. “I do, heʼs…” What did Gladio call him? He looked for him in the arena again. “H, heʼs a friend from work.”

“Yeah?” Noct turned to the screen. “Hey…isnʼt he that guy in Promptoʼs photo with you and Cindy?”

“For his opponents,” their cheerful announcer went on, “thatʼs opponents with an S—you voted for these canine devils who look like they just ripped their way out of their bitchesʼ wombs! _Iʼm_ worried theyʼll rip the gate apart and I donʼt got money for that! So before that happens, letʼs bring out the Wrath Hooounds!”

Another mad cheering from the crazed crowd as the other gate split open, revealing five— _five_ —rabid dogs with muscles rippling like tumors off their backs and tails misplaced on their spines. Each of them were kept at bay only by leashes drawn tight, leading to the hands of _ten men_ holding them back. _Ten men_ , and Gladio was just one!! 

Ignis couldnʼt believe it—did _any_ of them even know what was going to happen?! He whipped at the round-eyed Noct. “We have to stop this. Gladio is only a dancer, he doesnʼt know how to fight!”

“Ignis, you probably donʼt get this yet but that guy isnʼt gonna be down there if he wasnʼt allowed to sign up for this,” Noct explained to him. 

“What?” Ignis spat. “So what youʼre trying to tell me is—”

“Thereʼs gotta be a reason your friend vouched for him,” Noct supplied. “She probably thinks she could get something out of him.” A profit. Madam M thought she might profit from Gladioʼs blood and sweat. Noct was right, this _was_ a bloodsport. It was a business! 

“ _Actually…need a favor from ya,_ ” he remembered Gladio saying in the parlor. “ _‘bout a certain CNC._ ”

“ _Will this cost me?_ ” Madam M had asked. 

“ _Things go well, youʼll profit from it,_ ” he assured her. 

CNC. C _and_ C. _Corneo Colosseum!_ This was what Madam M said when she told him she would make it worth his while!

“Let the first round of the Sunday Special Match…begin!”

Ignis grabbed onto the top of the barrier as Gladio bolted for the squad of Wrath Hounds snapping free from their restraints. The whole arena thundered with the roars and screeches of clashing sounds, all rooting for whoever they pinned their bets on. Ignis didnʼt know how Gladio was going to take on all of them—even if he managed to grab onto one, there were four more jaws that could tear him apart! 

The answer, of course, was that he didnʼt. Just before the middle hounds could gnash onto his front, Gladio leapt onto their backs and dove down onto the center of the arena, putting himself behind the line of wild dogs now yapping in confusion at his absence. 

Except for one that heʼd captured by the tip of its tail, yanking it down to the ground with him like a bound Chocobo so he could trap its thick torso by his long leg. 

“Are…you sure he doesnʼt know how to fight?” Noct pointed to Ignisʼ champion while Ignis gaped. “‘cause…I donʼt think anyone elseʼs done that on a crazy mutt.”

With deft hands, Gladio was wrapping the houndʼs tail along its throat and then tying it into an unforgiving knot that squeezed out a whimper from the monster when he pulled it tight. Gladio was back up on his feet just as the four other hounds came charging back for revenge. Those large hands grasped the strangled muttʼs skull and lifted it up from the floor to drag it around in a whirlwind, like a hammer throw in the shape of a mammal. None of the vengeful Wrath Hounds were swayed from this act of atrocity against their kind. 

But of all the things Ignis obsessed himself about, it was his footwork—the left foot was nailed steadily to a spot while his right foot handled his motion and speed. 

The result was that the poor dog flew straight into its pack without the sacrifice of his balance. It was… 

It was beautiful, Ignis thought. With expert flow and grace, something not even a master like Andrea Rhodea could accomplish given the circumstances. Gladio wasnʼt just a dancer—before they met, there was no doubt he had been trained to fight. 

The victorious outburst of those who betted on him had barely filled the room before a panicked yelling consumed it in its wake. One of the Wrath Hounds had evaded the projectile dog and leapt at the combatant right when he was open. 

“ _Gladio!!_ ” Ignis roared in his hysteria. 

Gladio landed with a cry on his back, left arm between his face and the rabid monster, its great jaws clamped fiercely onto his forearm. Ignis felt his breath thinning out. Madam M had encouraged him to leave if he couldnʼt take it but how could she think he would just leave him like this?! 

“Hey, Gladio, pick yourself up! Thatʼs just a Shinra dog!!” Noct yelled in support. 

“One Wrath Hound down but it only takes one crazy bitch to kill a man!” the host howled. 

Whatever it was, something had buoyed Gladio off his back to roll over and pin his attacker to the floor with his weight. Any injured man would have been wailing and pulling desperately to free his limb, resulting in torn sinews and excess bleeding. 

But not Gladio, who had used his captured arm as an anchor when he shoved the houndʼs head up and exposed its neck for his left fist to beat. One strike, two strikes yielded nothing. 

With the third one, those terrific jaws finally gave out and Gladio could draw his injured limb back to safety. Fast hands grabbed his rude attacker and shoved it up to the next one leaping and aiming for his head. 

Giving it a taste of its own kind instead when its teeth clamped down on the soft patch of the second muttʼs nape, the part where its tail was connected. The wild audience was tearing itself apart in its own excitement. 

“Who _is_ this man?! Is he some beast in the human flesh?!” the announcer joined them. “Now might be a good time to be rethinking those bets of yours!!”

Gladio left the third dog to deal with the weakened one, rolling himself back up to his feet to inspect the damage. From where Ignis sat, he could see the pain from his bared teeth. Clean puncture wounds decorated his exposed forearm. He shook his hand. Braced himself at the ready at the fourth and fifth dogs approaching carefully, both of them reassessing the threat. If one of those should distract Gladio, the other one could deliver the kill. 

Ignis couldnʼt let that happen. With a swift hand, he seized Noctʼs gamepad and pressed the green button. Some cheerful sound rang out in the room just as the middle of the floor opened up to reveal—

“Whatʼs that? Is that a shield?” asked the announcer. 

“A shield?!” Ignis demanded of the wide-eyed Noct who kept pressing his screen in case it yielded something more helpful than that. A shield, a _shield_ of all things! Not even a gun with a single bullet! 

“Look, I just got this, okay?! At least it wasnʼt a pot!” Noct snapped back. 

Gladio spared a glance over his shoulder when he took notice of the metal protector, reminiscent of the ones carried by the Shinra riot troopers without the paint job and the logo. He took one last look at the approaching beasts. 

And then he was sprinting for the riot shield, the Wrath Hounds hot on his tail. His right fist enclosed around the long grip at the back. 

With a mighty swing, Gladio whirled and smashed the shield face onto one of them. He landed on his back, rolled onto his knees, raising his weapon just at the nick of time before the other beast mauled his face off. 

It almost seemed to Ignis now as if Gladio could have been given a pot and he would have just turned it into a mace. The way he carried the riot shield, Ignis could almost believe that that was his past job. 

The last three Wrath Hounds circled him carefully, though one of them, the one with blood on its mandible, looked fairly battered with scratches all along its front. Once a wild beast had tasted blood, after all, it didnʼt matter if the prey was a part of its kin. 

The sound of a siren blared suddenly, the arena flashing red briefly just as the host announced, “Uh-oh…that sounds like… _a trap!_ ” 

Ignis had almost missed them in his mad search, little panels on the ground flipping open once to blink red before they were hidden again from plain sight. Landmines. 

There was a moment of horror on Gladioʼs face when he realized what they were, but rather than linger in shock and fear, he moved with the bloody Wrath Hound lunging right at him. 

Jaws and claws landed on steel. Gladio shoved it back with a roar and a forward roll that crushed it between shield and ground. Another Wrath Hound came at him just as his knee hit the ground. He rose, intending to meet it head on—

“Gladio!” Ignis had cried out too late—from under his knee, a thick black coil lashed out from the ground, missing his swift leg but not his injured left where it wrapped itself around like a tentacle. 

An angry noise raged around the arena, a mixture of boos and those who brayed for Gladioʼs blood. Gladioʼs own cry would have been lost in the orchestra if Ignis didnʼt know to look for it. Another cheerful noise twittered in the room, ending in a pop of confetti as though this was some concert. Like insult to injury. Someoneʼs green button wasted. 

Ignis called him again; it was the most that he could do, restrained as he was by the rules of the sport and the barrier between him and his champion. By then, Gladio had trapped himself between shield and floor while the persistent dog snapped and pounded on his flimsy haven. He bunched up his fists on knees, eyes darting wildly to see if there was anything he could find that could help. 

His desperation landed him on the last free Wrath Hound prowling slowly towards the curled man. The mammal practically had nothing to lose by seizing the opportunity. 

Ignis flew up to his feet. “Gladio, on your left!!”

Gladioʼs head turned suddenly to the last Wrath Hound bounding for him. He rolled forward, then, dropping his defenses to receive a heavy paw over his shoulder but somehow, he survived. With his bound left, he yanked at his restraints hard with a roar. 

That dog that had been mauling at his shield snapped its jaws onto his trap and cut him loose. Come the next, the last canine landed on it, and they snapped and tousled at each other in some confused rage. 

That afforded him a little bit of time from them, bringing him right back to that battered hound whose life he ended with a downward strike of his shield to its throat. 

The arena quaked suddenly with a frantic energy; there were only two monsters left and their berserking fury had put themselves along a path of landmines bursting with bullets, stunners and party strings until one of them had gotten stuck in the steel jaws of a beast trap. So close, Gladio was so close!! 

Noct yelled out something but between the shrieking crowd and the pounding of Ignisʼ heart, he didnʼt hear it. Wild eyes watched his champion roll his right shoulder before he sprinted off to both Wrath Hounds. One of them bounded back and charged at him with a manic speed. 

Gladio leapt on it, spinning on mid-air when he kicked himself off, falling with his shield poised to strike. 

He slammed it onto the ground with a great cry, sending out a shockwave that triggered all landmines to flip open and crack with their traps—nets, blades, a spray of needles, whipped cream, a white flag… 

The sweeping blow cut through both hounds and sent them tumbling back onto fireworks and chasms. When the smoke had cleared and the traps had fallen silent, Gladio stood alone in the middle of the arena. 

Ignis faltered to his seat in a burst of relief, knees too weak to carry him much longer even when his inner self wanted to howl and whistle with the rest of the room. Or with the host screaming, “Un-be-lievable!! Man has reigned supreme!! With five out of five Wrath Hounds in his name, the winner for this round is—Gladiooo!!”

Gladioʼs left arm looked red when he wiped his brows with his fist. He let it drop on his side and hung his head back, eyes shut tight in the midst of his roaring victory. 

He looked tired, Ignis thought as he watched him from one of the overhanging screens. His heart beat in troubled notes. He looked so tired…and this was just the first round. 

How much more of these would he have to survive by the skin of his teeth? His dumb luck? 

Finally, Gladio smiled, thinly, and waved to the crowd, turning around where he stood until he left the arena. Back to wherever he would be waiting until he was summoned for the next killing spree.

—

As soon as Gladio was out of sight of the cameras and the Colosseumʼs men had come out to prepare the stage for the next battle, Ignis got up. “I have to be somewhere else,” was the only thing he told Noct before he started up the stairwell and turned down the corridor outside the open doors, where he met an usher smiling and bowing to him.

He called his attention before he missed his chance, reaching inside for his invitation to wave it at him. “I need to speak with the game master. Now.”

“S, Sir—?”

“Where will I find them?” Ignis stood in front of the elevator and pressed the button pointing upwards. 

“Uh—I can call—”

“Good. Tell them Iʼll be waiting for them in the lobby in front of the competitorʼs entrance. If they arenʼt there in 3 minutes,” Ignis nudged his glasses just as the elevator dinged open, “then Iʼm afraid I will have to recommend an improvement of the staff to Madam M.” 

Three minutes later, a man in a hat, a fur-lined black vest and worn jeans hurried to him in a jog and dropped for a sloppy bow. His eyes were hidden behind aviator shades, and he had on a hat and heavy gold links around his neck. 

“Iʼm the tournament director for tonight,” he introduced himself. “Iʼm also the gatekeeper. Your Madam Mʼs proxy, right?”

“Indeed.” Ignis braced his hand on his side. “And now that we know each other, we can get right down to business: I need you to get me in that match.”

“What?!” He jumped back, the look of shock painted clearly on the exposed part of his face. “Are you serious?!”

“Iʼm sure you should be able to manage the necessary arrangements. Spin some narrative into my entrance, if you will.”

“Uh, I mean…” He scratched his hat. “In the middle of the match?”

Ignis huffed out a disappointed sigh and adjusted his glasses again. It was better than stuffing his shaking hand inside his pocket. This was not the most well-thought out plan heʼd ever come up with but he couldnʼt afford to wait another round, anymore. It would just kill him to shout behind a barrier, he needed to do something to make sure Gladio stayed safe. 

“Will that be a problem?” he asked haughtily. “Since you introduced yourself to me as the director and gatekeeper, I had assumed that the scope of your job goes beyond ensuring all forms are signed in black ink.”

“Hey, cʼmon, mister, thereʼs no need to talk to me like that.” An uneasy expression pinched the manʼs face. He gestured a hand towards Ignis. “Seriously, if thereʼs something you donʼt like about the way things are going, letʼs talk about it properly.” Oh, where would he start? Could he politely excuse Gladio from the next rounds, after all? Like a parent to his child? He doubted Gladio would like that, though. Noct was right, he was here for a reason. 

“Though…isnʼt your champion winning?” the gatekeeper ventured on. Ignis didnʼt care that he was, of course. He liked Gladio, and Gladio was his friend. They promised to meet tomorrow, as well, and Ignis had been looking forward to it. 

“That man owes me something,” Ignis explained, twisting the truth a little. “And Iʼm afraid that between the prize money and the chance of death, he is using this as an opportunity to escape me. So Iʼm just here to protect my investment.”

“Is he worth that much?” Oh, he has no idea. 

Ignis crossed his arms. “Will it matter in that match?”

The gatekeeper clicked his tongue and hissed, shifting on his feet as he rubbed his neck. “Look, just look at it from my perspective.” His hands came up in a gesture to wait. “The crowd wants an impossible match between a single human competitor versus a pack of wild animals. The drama is in the suspense!” He swept his hands sideways. “Will he be able to turn things around and win at all costs?! What kind of gruesome death will he die from?!” Now, he was just really pushing his buttons. 

“Look at it from my perspective, as well, then,” Ignis rebutted, perfectly stoic. “I could be losing more than millions here tonight. And if he gets killed in that arena, then I have to find some other way to get those millions which is why,” he spread a hand to the side, “I am presenting myself as a competitor to protect whatʼs mine. 

“However,” he crossed his arms, “despite my eagerness to play fair, a certain director doesnʼt seem to understand my concerns and persists, instead, to get in my way. So,” he looked him in the eye, or tried to despite those dark glasses, “if he gets killed out there because Iʼm disallowed to join him, whose fault do you think is it? And who do you think will I start collecting my lost millions from?” 

When the manʼs jaw dropped open, he knew he finally got through to him.

—

The room behind the competitorʼs entrance was an old lift that took him down to the backstage beyond the fightersʼ gate.

With plain gray walls, a high ceiling and a corridor as wide as they came, Ignis wondered if this whole thing had actually been a warehouse until it was repurposed into what it was now. It was even complete with leftovers of construction and red steel doors on each side of the wall. 

One of them was marked by a man with a khaki beret to match his golden silk shirt. He waved him over just as Ignis approached him. “They told me whatʼs gonna happen,” he said, then nodded to the door. “Heʼs in there.”

The room beyond was dim when Ignis stepped through and pulled the door shut—and it was quite a mess. Metal shelves loaded with cardboard boxes filled two sides of the wall while a good half of the room was occupied by some huge thing under a tarpaulin, along with some steel pipes, corrugated sheets and crates, reminiscent still of never-finished construction projects. At the back of the room, they managed to fit a vending machine for potions and stuff and a bench. There was a trash bin there, too, and a wide-screen TV that had been switched off. Two narrow tables stood side-by-side in the middle of the room, surrounded by scattered foldable chairs. 

Gladio sat heavily in one of them, by the foot of the table facing the door, next to an empty bottle of potion, a roll of bandages and tapes and some white gauze over his shoulder. His long legs were stretched out, a damp cloth, pink with blood, pressed to his wounds while he leaned his head back. His eyes were closed. 

Ignis had never seen him this way. He was always smiling, so full of energy. Magnetic, no matter if he was just standing there, looking at him. What was it that drove this man to push himself like this? 

He entertained the briefest heartache for what Gladio suffered before he marched past his shield standing next to him, making for the vending machine to buy another potion bottle. He made his way back to Gladio. 

Crouching in front of him, Ignis carried Gladioʼs hand from the cloth so he could peel it from his wounds. By now, Gladio had cleaned it well, though the puncture marks still looked angry and red, worsened by the lash marks of the trap that had bound him. 

The bigger man stirred as Ignis welcomed himself to a gauze and poured some of his potion to dab on the wounds. “This may sting a little,” Ignis warned him when those groggy eyes finally located him. He offered a little smile. “But judging by your performance this evening, you should be able to take it.”

Gladio smirked lopsidedly at him. “Mustʼve hit my head somehow. First I hear your voice and now Iʼm imagining youʼre here…” He carried his right hand to touch the shape of Ignisʼ cheek with a tender thumb… 

The fire of recognition flashed behind those amber eyes shooting wide open, staring back at him just as a stunned Ignis started to make some kind of noise at the back of his throat—

Gladio screamed, the perfect horror pitch to match his legs kicking him back to the tables, which groaned at their displacement. The empty potion bottle toppled over his shoulder. His wounded left caught it deftly just as he yelped out, “You’re real?!”

“Would I be anything else?” Ignis sputtered, his left cheek still burning despite the featherlight touch that caressed him. _Caressed him!_ Had he…did he just—was that—?! 

“What are you doing here?!”

“I should ask the same to you!” Ignis shoved that thought off his head as he shifted closer to Gladio again and proceeded with his first aid. “I have questions of my own but I can wait until tomorrow for you to answer all of them. Hold still, we havenʼt got much time left until the next round.”

“Wait, hold that thought— _we_?” Gladio leaned forward, pressing his fingers to his chest. “What do you mean _we_? How did you find out I was here, anyway?!”

“A certain masseuse claims to have an important client visit tonight so she sent me in her stead to supervise her champion.” Ignis took another gauze and spread it over his forearm. He grabbed the bandages and tape next and began to bind the strip around Gladioʼs arm. “I suppose this is why.”

“Oh come on,” Gladio groaned, slapping his right hand on his forehead. “I canʼt believe she did that.”

“Iʼm glad she did,” Ignis countered, getting up on his feet after securing the covering with tape. Now he nudged Gladio forward so he could inspect the other wound at the back of his shoulder. This one hadnʼt been cleaned yet. “Take your shirt off.”

“Look, itʼs just a graze, it ainʼt serious.”

“I need to wrap a binding over it so that the dressing doesnʼt fall off.”

“Just tape it down, then.” Gladio glanced at him. “I…I canʼt fight if Iʼve got something like that around me.”

Ignis couldnʼt keep his frown and his tut to himself. Gladio chose only to turn back to his feet. “I never realized you knew how to fight,” he replied. He took the last piece of gauze, then thought better of it and just brought out his clean handkerchief to drench on one of the taps installed to the wall. 

Gladio was watching him when he came back and shifted the ruined strap of his tank top a little to get at his wound. This one wasnʼt as terrible as his arm and had already started to heal, thanks to the potion. “You live under the plate, you just gotta know how to fight, I guess,” he said. 

“But I donʼt know anyone who could have done what you did,” Ignis went on, turning to Gladio. “It took two men each to hold the leash of one hound, how could you just tackle one to the ground by yourself?”

“Protein shakes and a balanced diet.”

“Indeed,” Ignis snorted, frowning at the stunted claw marks on his skin. If Gladio didnʼt want to tell him, then fine. He picked up the last gauze, finished his potion on it and pressed it to Gladioʼs skin so he could tape it in place. “Does Andrea know youʼre here?”

“Yeah.” Gladio looked at him again. “Does anyone know youʼre here?”

Ignis nodded, making his way back to the sink to wash his hands. “A friend of mine is here. Promptoʼs best friend. From a wealthy family, so I suppose thatʼs where the invitation came from.” He pointed to the shield as he was drying his hands on some tissue. “We gave you that.”

Gladio glanced at the hardy shield and knocked on its face with a light fist. “I actually really like it. Think I might take it home.”

For the first time since Gladio stepped out into the ring, Ignis chuckled. “You wield it with mastery. Did you used to be a riot trooper?”

“Nah, doesnʼt take one to know how to use this,” Gladio replied, just as Ignis opened one of the purses heʼd slipped onto his belt. “Hey, Ignis.” He got up to his feet, then, and trapped one of Ignisʼ hands with his. “You arenʼt allowed to go out there with me.”

“Iʼve already spoken with the people of the arena. I told them youʼre an investment I am interested to protect,” Ignis explained, though he didnʼt pull back from Gladioʼs warm touch, even when he glanced at those fingers folded over his. “I wonʼt let you get killed tonight, Gladio. Youʼre my friend, youʼre important to me. And you owe me a lot of answers.”

It was only then that Gladio realized how heʼd seized him. He stepped back, retrieving his hand. 

He ran it self-consciously over the shaved side of his hair. “I guess we can split the prize money.”

“You can keep that money,” Ignis refused him. From his belt purse, he produced a pair of plain black leather gloves which he only put on when he would be taking up his daggers. “So long as I get to keep you alive.”

A short song of three ascending notes played from the overhead speakers. “ _Gladio and Ignis, your match will begin shortly,_ ” the woman said. “ _Please make your way to the gate._ ”

Gladio sighed, looking at him. “Guess itʼs too late for you to back out now.”

“I wonʼt get in your way, Gladio,” Ignis promised him, pulling on his gloves tightly. “Iʼm only here to watch your back.”

—

If his younger self ever found out that he would be walking this way one day, he wondered what his wiser version would have said. Ridiculous. Idiotic. Spectacularly careless. Red-faced, Ignis would bow his head in shame and silence. Nothing he would have said would change his heart, after all.

Nothing would have kept him from marching alongside Gladio, stepping into that inner room just before the last gate, their last chance to escape. Out there, in the arena, the host was still ramping up the crowd. “So tonight,” he said, barely muffled by the steel, “weʼre giving you _twice_ the pain!!” Some roaring came through. “ _Twice_ the danger!!”

Ignis snorted. “I did tell the director I was sure he could work my entry into the drama.”

“And…how about everyoneʼs favorite… _wiiild carrrd_?” That song certainly got the crowd cheering. 

“I still canʼt believe youʼre here with me, Ignis,” Gladio sighed, facing him. He patted for something in his pocket. “If Iʼd only known, I would have already answered your questions that night.”

“Iʼm touched you would think that would have been enough to keep me away from you,” Ignis answered. “Do you know why I picked up these blades, Gladio?”

“Why?” Gladio didnʼt waste a second to spit that out. 

“Let’s hear it for—Gl-ladio and Igniiis!!”

“Stay alive at the end of this round and Iʼll tell you,” Ignis smirked. He nodded to the parting gates, the light pouring into their secret room. Heʼd go after Gladio. 

Gladio breathed out a slow and soft growl before he waved a finger to Ignisʼ smile as he moved. “Only if I get to see you back in the waiting room with me.”

“Count on it, Gladio,” Ignis assured him. When he was a good step ahead of him, with deep breaths, he stepped out himself. 

For the most part, the crowd seemed happy with the changed rules—or maybe that was just how he was made to see things down there, on the floor, where everything looked so much bigger and brighter. Overhead, the Sunday Special Match logo on the screens was now emblazoned with a strip of text that read _Wild Card Edition_ , before they changed first to Gladioʼs picture, and then to his. 

“Cheat!” Somebody accused them somewhere. “ _Coward!!_ ”

“My wife is divorcing me because of you, you son of a bitch!!”

“What a loaded accusation,” Ignis whistled, scanning the seats for more. “You must be living for them.”

“Yup,” Gladio replied, rolling his neck. “Sure makes you feel loved, huh?”

Along the lowest row, Ignis caught sight of Noct staring and gaping at him. Oh right, he never explained what his plan was all this time. 

He nodded to him as the announcer went on, “Their opponents—you voted for these territorial lizards who rule Midgarʼs sewers with their webbed fists. Will this be the day they will finally come to conquer mankind?! Letʼs roll out the red carpet for—the sahagins!!”

For all that the announcer drummed up their participation, though, Ignis only welcomed them with an “Ah!” of recognition as they marched carefully out the gate. 

“Friends oʼyours?” Gladio cocked a brow at him. 

“After a fashion,” Ignis answered, pushing back his glasses. “Though this is the first time weʼre meeting in person.”

“You telling me youʼve been chatting with a buncha turtles online?”

Though turtles would be quite an understatement for them. They were more like a combination of turtles, frogs and snakes, standing up to the height of a full-grown man with three-pronged spears to boot. 

And there were four of them who stood across Gladio and Ignis, their polearms held ready to skewer at any momentʼs notice. Two to a fighter. Heʼd handled more. 

“So much for twice the pain,” Ignis mumbled. “Is this all of them?”

“Oh, donʼt look now!” There came his answer, in the form of the announcerʼs voice drawing his attention to the floor panels behind him, falling open, wide enough for four more sahagins to leap through. A total of eight. “Now, this looks like a _real_ party!”

Gladio took one foot in front of him, striking out his injured left as if to protect Ignis from the reinforcements. When he started moving back, Ignis followed his lead, putting them in the middle of both lines of foreign monsters. “Plenty enough for you?” Gladio mumbled, glancing at him. He had to say, it was more than he was hoping for. 

Ignis wouldnʼt be caught dead admitting it, though. “Well, itʼs definitely more than what Iʼve handled,” was all he let on. Carefully, he turned around, back to the first squad of sahagins muttering noises to each other. From his sheaths, he slipped off his daggers, held them across his front in backhanded grips as he spread his feet for movement. “Gladio, listen to me.”

“Shoot,” Gladio acknowledged. 

“Once the battle starts, weʼll switch places. Iʼll take care of the sahagins across you, youʼll handle these. Theyʼre sizing us up as we speak.” Ignis looked at each one of them in the eye. “Weʼll break their strategy and win with ours.”

“Sounds like this ainʼt your first rodeo.”

“Not exactly.” Ignis flexed his fingers along his weapons. “These sahagins are predictable, theyʼre intelligent enough to have a society but lack the rationality to be creative. Aim for the hands and the spears and keep your skies clear. Once youʼve disarmed them, theyʼre no better than fish out of water.”

“And howʼd you know all this?”

“Iʼve beaten them countless times in the Shinra Combat Simulator.”

“You kidding me?!” Gladio hissed, snapping to him. “Weʼre working on a plan based on virtual reality?!”

“To my defense, they use the same AI for the training program of the peacekeeping division,” Ignis defended himself, trying not to look shiftily back at his partner. “Besides, what would you have to lose for relying on me?”

“Hold on to your devices now, dear fans,” the host primed them. “‘cause who knows when the wild card button will pop out!”

“No.” Gladio shook his head, facing the sahagins at the back again. “I trust you 100%, Ignis Scientia.”

Ignis smiled for him. “Thatʼs what I like to hear, Gladio.”

“The second round for the Sunday Special Match…begins now!”

“ _Switch!_ ” Ignis dipped low to his right when he whirled to take Gladioʼs place. No sooner had he faced his new marks then he was already skating for them and throwing his right arm for a backward cut. One of the sahagins had blocked his attack with an easy upward tilt of its spear. 

Putting it right where Ignis needed it to grab onto it, boost himself up and deliver two sharp kicks up the sahaginʼs face. He came down with it and twisted his way out of danger with striking legs until he could put a distance between him and his targets. 

Successfully disarming one of them even before its kin could take notice of what heʼd done. “Gladio!” Once heʼd gotten his attention, Ignis pitched the polearm at him. 

Gladio blocked two strikes from two sahagins before he rolled forward and snatched the spear off the air. The supportive crowd let out a celebratory cheer. 

“Gladio receives a weapon from his generous sponsor!!” the announcer reported. 

“Thanks!” Gladio cried back, whirling the spear once with his left. “What about you?!”

“Donʼt worry about me!” Ignis answered, turning to two sahagins charging at him. He looked up and found a third one aiming for him from the ceiling. “Thereʼs more where that came from!”

The announcer was bursting with more excitement, pumping up the crowd while Ignis flipped himself back away from the crashing sahagin. He lashed out on the trio with his knives while he could catch them off-guard, whirling and jabbing wherever he could force an opening. Despite his expertise in conquering virtual sahagins on a weekly basis, he couldnʼt say this was…familiar territory. 

But the strikes of the parried blows were, the hurricane spins, even the jabs and the kicks that were sure to leave a bruise, his flying twists as he slashed for a counterattack. With razor sharp movements, he swept the room with an entourage of monsters following him where he went. 

Eight became seven became five. 

That last one was Ignisʼ kill after Gladio swept a sahagin off its feet and Ignis rolled over his back, delivering a fatal stab onto the sahaginʼs flexible throat, making a slash to tear past its jugular. 

“Another combo attack from Gladio and Ignis!!” the announcer was getting wild as the crowd. “Just in time for the first wiiild carrrd!!”

Both of them had just finished congratulating each other with a fist bump when the noise and the manic song of a slot machine played in the overhead speakers, drawing everyoneʼs attention to the screens where three pictures were spinning at random. The end result was a drawing of a rocket, a bird, and then another rocket. 

Figures that the result was a handful of short missiles speeding down to the floor. 

Ignis had barely gotten a curse through his teeth when Gladio yanked him down to his knees and wrapped him in his arms with the shield up. Ignis kept his face tucked into his damp shirt, holding tightly as he counted the number of explosions. 

By the fifth, though, Gladio shoved him aside suddenly, the only explanation behind such rudeness being a cry of surprise and pain in a chorus with the last burst. 

Ignis had landed face first on the floor. When he looked up, he saw Gladio on his back, groaning and wincing, the bottom part of his shield black and damaged. “ _Gladio!_ ” He scrambled up to his feet to race to him. 

“Uh oh, looks like Gladioʼs in trouble!” the host said, like stoking the fire of the raging audience. “Will Ignis have time to save him for the sahagins shave him?! Howʼs that for a pun, eh?”

Ignis slid to his knees beside Gladio, a green-lit hand landing on his partnerʼs injured shoulder, the sparkling swirls dancing along the length of Gladioʼs form. 

“Annnd—heʼs—safe!”

“Iʼm not done with you yet,” Ignis snarled to his partner, catching another set of spinning images on the screen. “Get up, youʼre tougher than this!”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” Gladio groaned, raising himself back to his feet. He stood closely next to Ignis when the reel finally stopped to three angry fire bomb faces. 

The signal for the enemy gates to rumble open again and for six more sahagins to come rushing out, bringing the total number of opponents up to a whopping 11. A veritable party for those safe behind the protection of their tickets. Two of them launched themselves to the ceiling in an instant. 

“Charming,” Ignis snorted, blowing at his non-existent fringes. “Gladio, can you handle these newcomers?”

“Leave it to me, Cap.” Gladio dashed towards the grounded sahagins. 

“Good,” Ignis kept his eye on the descending monsters. “Iʼll take care of these.” On his knees, he waited for the leaping lizards to fall close enough to strike his crown with their prongs. 

Before he flipped backwards and pitched a _Fira_ spell on one of them, letting the other one catch the explosion just before they crashed onto the floor, both of them kicking and screeching at the flames licking all over them. 

On the other side of the room, Gladio had shot his borrowed spear straight into the face of the sahagin across him, then leapt and with a great roar, smashed his shield onto the ground again to send out a quake that flung the enemies back with a blow. 

Except that one that spat on his back and reduced him into a puff of smoke. 

Which cleared and left only a bulky toad in its place. 

A great laughter shook the crowd in hysterics. Even the host couldnʼt seem to get a grip of himself at the little magic trick, stitching together a sentence out of whoops and false starts. 

About the only one who didnʼt find it funny was Ignis who muttered, “Brilliant,” behind his teeth before he dashed for the bastard sahagin that had turned his partner into a frog. A high hop brought his feet onto its shoulders just as it turned so that he landed with it on its back and could easily slit its throat with his knife. Its spear, he stole by some expert footwork that sent it spinning to his hands. 

He managed to make it to Gladio in time before the sahagins thought they might be able to skewer the defenseless frog into their prongs. “Get away from Toadio,” he snarled at them. 

“Ribbit!” said the buff frog. 

Strikes were blocked, parried or kicked away if they got too close. Ignis minded his footwork before he ended up cracking Gladioʼs skull under his heel, never going too far from the poor thing before he lost him. That second puff of smoke couldnʼt have come sooner. 

Ignis had just flipped back from safety in time before Gladio smashed his shield forward and drew a great sweep that flung the rest of the sahagins back to the ground. 

“Toadio?!” Gladio whipped at him. “Really?!”

Ignis took the moment to breathe, pushing his glasses back. “If it fits the bill,” was all he said to his distracted partner. Gladioʼs response was to grab him by the arm and throw him backwards. He went off with wide spinning legs. 

And landed with a great slam of his spear on an unfortunate sahagin which crumpled to the floor upon meeting the blade on its skull. 

Ignis tossed his spear to Gladio and kicked up the corpseʼs for himself. “Good call, Gladio.”

“Let’s clean up before these bastards call their mothers.” Gladio whirled the spear to a forehand grip. 

They stood side-by-side, giving the six remaining sahagins a moment to collect themselves before they attacked their enemies to the left and right. “Weʼll flank them and meet in the middle,” was Ignisʼ instructions. Whereas he moved with sweeping cuts earlier with his daggers, he went now with leaps and slams and precision jabs from his stolen weapon. Gladio moved as brutally as ever, switching expertly between shield and spear and back. Another wild card came through, and then a rain of play money poured over them. 

Not a direct threat except for where visibility was concerned, so before Ignis could think twice, he darted towards the last standing sahagin and shoved at it with the head of his spear. Then with spinning jumps, he smashed his polearm twice onto its face. 

Until it fell back and crumpled lifelessly into the ground. 

Victorious music trumpeted from the speakers, startling Ignis who looked around the arena with wide eyes only to find it covered all over with the cheap notes. Near him, though, he found Gladio pumping his fists in the air—which could only mean one thing: “We won?” he cried out to him. 

“A calculated genocide, ladies and gentlemen!!” the announcer yelled to the screaming crowd. Gladio laughed and smiled at Ignis, nodding, a twinkle in his eyes and a sparkle in his teeth. Quite the opposite of how he ended his first bout. That look alone made all this pain worth it to Ignis. “Brought to you by our reigning victors—Gladio and Ignis!!”

—

Now, after his first taste of victory in an adrenaline-infused match, Ignis understood why some men might choose to come back to the violence for the chance to relive the high of winning. Even at the risk of death.

“Not bad for a first go, huh?”

He wondered if that was the same for Gladio. 

Ignis smiled, though he kept his focus on administering care to Gladioʼs wounds, both the old and the new. The silence and peace of the waiting room was a traitor that threatened to drop his rush, just when he was already warmed up and raring for the last round of the night. 

He held onto Gladioʼs left hand, keeping the palm upturned with a thumb to pin it down while he dabbed on the wounds and the temporary scars with a clean fabric soaked in potion. “I think it was a decent performance, too,” he agreed. When he was done with his forearm, he wrapped it again in a clean gauze and then wound the bandage strip along its length. 

“You looked incredible out there, Ignis,” Gladio told him. “When this is over, Iʼm gonna look for videos of you doing all those flips and stuff.”

Ignis laughed at that, keeping his sight away from Gladioʼs gaze while he reached for the adhesive to tape his work. “Iʼm certainly no master, though.”

“Oh cʼmon,” Gladio chuckled. “Take a little credit where itʼs due!” Then more quietly, he added, “Thanks for watching my back out there.”

This time, Ignis made sure to face him when he promised him, “Iʼll always have it.” It seemed the easiest thing now to say those words with such honesty. He made a decision that Gladio was a good man and he resolved to see it through. “Time to switch. Let me see your right.”

“Yes, Sir,” Gladio obeyed, getting up from his steel chair to swap places with his friend. Ignis finished his own bottle of potion before he soaked up the cloth in his hand with another bottle, then dabbed it onto Gladioʼs angry bruises and scrapes. “So…can I ask you now?”

Ignis looked up to him. 

“Why did you pick up the blades?” When those coffee eyes gazed at him, Ignis could almost smell the aroma of beans from their warmth. 

He put his eyes back to his work, hoping that would cover the blush on his cheeks. He answered with no preambles, this time. “When I was 16, I made a promise to myself that I would never be powerless anymore.”

“Slum thugs?”

Ignis nodded. “I decided I wanted the power to protect myself. To be independent. To be the least of my fatherʼs problems. And then I realized…” He turned to the table for another clean gauze. “That ambition extended to others. To the ones I loved. To the ones I cared for.”

“Those slum thugs still bother you?”

“No.” Ignis shook his head. He wrapped Gladioʼs arm in the gauze. “That was years ago. But the blades, the ambition…” This time, he raised his eyes to his partner. “They stayed with me.”

Now, it was Gladio who drew his eyes down. Ashamed of what he drove his friend to do. 

Ignis wrapped another roll of bandages around him. “May I ask you a question, as well?” Maybe he could seize this opportunity. 

“Yeah,” Gladio answered. 

Ignis got up and checked on that wound on his back earlier. “Why are you doing this?” Those claw marks had already sealed up, and when he brushed his gloved hand on them, the scabs had crumbled away. Soon, it would look as if nothing had happened to it. 

From where he stood, he could see Gladio shrugging, tossing his hands up. “Got someone to pay back.”

“You needed the money.”

Gladio turned his head a little to his side and nodded. 

Ignis clicked his tongue with a quiet hiss, topping up the potion on his inked scars to hasten the healing process. “And this is why I told you you shouldnʼt have wasted your kindness on me.”

“Did you forget what I said?” Gladio asked. “I told you I trusted you 100%, Ignis Scientia.” This time, he looked at him over his shoulder to face him. “I ainʼt the type to bullshit, Ignis. And thereʼs no one Iʼll trust with my back that I wonʼt trust with my money.”

For a second there, Ignis told himself Gladio was only reading off a poem in his head. Some well-loved lines he threw around whenever he felt like it, wherever he stood to gain from it. But the longer he did, the worse the guilt he felt—how could he dare to think of his friend that way while looking into his eyes?

“Let’s just say,” Gladio continued, “Iʼm protecting my own investment, too.” Which was a line of thought Ignis could get behind. 

Ignis smiled and nodded at that. “I can understand a mutual relationship based on oneʼs own interests.” It was sad, all those fairytales told them this wasnʼt the secret to a happy life. But it was the language they spoke under the plate, taught to them by the very people who lived above them. 

He finished up Gladioʼs bandages just as they were called to the gate. “Well, one last push,” he said. Shall we?”

Gladio got up on cue. “Ignis.”

“Yes, Gladio?” Ignis left a mess of used gauzes and bandages on their wake, giving them one last look as he dusted his gloved hands together. 

When he turned to face his partner, Gladioʼs hand landed on the back of his neck to steady him while he cleaned up Ignisʼ face with a damp cloth. Ignis froze at their nearness, at his boldness. He realized, then, too, that he hadnʼt had the proper mindset to check his appearances before he went out to present himself to the public again. And to think that between the two of them, Gladio was the one who had the foresight to do it for him… 

He felt flushed all over…or maybe that was just Gladioʼs touch. Warm and easy at the base of his skull, and the hand with the cloth moved lightly along his skin, almost like those eyes gazing on him. A man with enough power to sweep an arena clean…and yet how he moved as gently as a lover. 

Ignis forgot to forget how to breathe in his surprise but by the time he realized what he ought to be doing, Gladio had already finished his work with a handsome smile and a wink. “Now you look ready to give ‘em hell.”

—

By the time he had stepped back into the arena, Ignis thought he was getting used to the wildness. The songs of the crowd, the blaze of the lights, the tangy and raw odor of the concrete. He flexed his fingers and shook his hands, leaving his spear along his feet.

“For their last opponent,” the announcer went on with his spiel, “you voted for the machine so hereʼs a gift from the generous madmen behind the Shinra Electric Power Company!”

“Shinra?!” Gladio spat, visibly tensing. This time, he carried his shield on his left and his spear on his right. 

“He canʼt be serious,” Ignis muttered under his breath. He scanned the seats for Noct, then, and found him leaning over the barrier, eyes wide and round on the enemy gate. 

“You know what they say,” their host went on, “another manʼs trash is another manʼs treasure. The question is: whoʼs gonna end up in the trash after this?! Will it be our beloved winners? Or this Custom Sweeper Version 2?!”

The dramatic splitting of the gates could hardly have kept the errant machine from barreling through. It resembled those anti-personnel security gunners Ignis often saw in the weekly status reports of their reactors—but somehow, this looked larger, and had two spinning blades each for arms instead of the guns. When it shook from the power of its mako engine, it reminded Ignis of a hunting dog ready to maul its prey. 

“My neckʼs getting stiff just looking up at it,” Gladio complained, marching backwards with Ignis. “So, got any plans, Mr. Strategist?”

“Unfortunately nothing notable,” Ignis confessed. “I know where these came from but have not worked closely with their type. However, as with any man-made machines, it will surely have problems no man has found the solution for yet. We should take a look at its back, see if thatʼs where theyʼre hiding the ugly parts.”

“Good start,” Gladio agreed. “Tell me what you find. Iʼll keep it busy.”

“Gladio?!” he whirled at him. 

“Look, I ainʼt the one with the fancy knives here,” Gladio pointed out to him. “If thereʼs anything that these things hate, itʼs little things getting in-between their sensitive parts. Besides, a thing that big wonʼt be able to watch its front and rear at the same time. And if itʼs a failed experiment, itʼs gotta be defective.” All sensible, of course. 

Ignis returned to the looks of their enemy, still raring, and fuming around that thing that looked like a boiler on its back. “But Iʼm worried about those blades, Gladio,” he told him. “I donʼt think your shield can be able to withstand those.”

“Hey, you got my back, donʼcha?”

Ignis turned to him. 

Gladio winked at him. “Itʼs gonna be fine, Ignis.” He wore the look of utter confidence, a man who believed sincerely in what his friend could do. Ignis had never been the religious kind but he prayed to whoever was listening that he wouldnʼt disappoint Gladio with his incompetence. “Oh, and youʼll need this.”

From his pocket, he passed him a green materia, buzzing with static through his leather gloves when Ignis reached for it. It was _Lightning_ , his mind told him. 

“Thought I might luck out on a real weapon back in the second round, but I didnʼt realize I was gonna got someone better,” Gladio smirked. “Lucky me.” Ridiculous, was he flirting with him in a time of life and death?! 

Ignis felt his cheeks and his ears burn red even as he glared at the man who would risk his life for him. He hadnʼt even considered that the guy would be into guys until…until…! 

The announcerʼs voice broke through their bubble. “The final round of the Sunday Special Match…”

“I would save my flirtations until after we win this fight, if I were you,” Ignis muttered to his friend as he slotted his new materia to his right dagger. 

“Begins…”

“Then you better make sure you stay alive until then,” Gladio rumbled back. 

“Now!”

The next thing Ignis knew, he was leaping to his side and whirling on his knees to find the manic Cutter at the other end of the room, where its large arms lashed out indiscriminately on the wall and the space. Gladio roared out to it and placed himself right at the front of its grilled muzzle, which was as stupid as thinking he could survive a rampaging truck. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what the hell is Gladio thinking?! Has he finally gone insane?!” the announcer cried. 

The Cutter barreled at Gladio just as Ignis started for it, heart in his throat. But somehow, Gladio managed to grab onto its face and pull it free just before he landed on his back with a cry, though safely between its legs. With the inside exposed, Ignis took this as his opportunity to launch his first attack. 

He pitched his stolen spear at its open face and struck true, causing the machine to stutter and stun from the shorted circuits. Just long enough for Ignis to finally slide onto his knees to its back, aiming his daggers at the first exposed part that he could find. 

Its leg sockets—though it would take much more than a couple of well-placed cuts to break them but it was definitely not undoable. It made sense, too—if they could kill its movements, then it would be as good as defeated. 

“I need your spear!” Ignis cried, raising both his knives with the intent to bury them deeply but found only the ground at the end of his blades when he stabbed. How could it move so fast?! 

The Cutter was whirling at them across the distance again. On the one hand, its movements were predictable—literally it just zoomed and slashed, in quick successions. On the other hand, so was a car without the brakes and both of them could maim and kill. 

“Got anything?!” Gladio cried from the side of the room, trying to gauge when to come in so he didnʼt have to waste his breath running around like a fool. The reeling wild card sounds played again. They could hardly spare a moment to watch the screens, though. 

“The hinges up its legs are exposed!” Ignis announced. “We need to—”

“Excuse me, is anyone here losing a baby?” the announcer asked, drawing everyoneʼs attention to a round stuffed toy floating down in a parachute. How exciting. “‘cause I think Iʼm looking at it! Man, when they say wild card, they were serious!” 

“We need to find a way to keep it still—” Ignis returned his attention to the machine charging for him. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Gladio snatch that stuffed toy from the air and pitch it at the enemy, like throwing a stick to lure a dog—

The roaring explosion that blossomed at the back of the cutter was nothing that Ignis expected at all. While their bettors cheered at this surprise boon and the machine crumpled on its front, Ignis wasted a moment to stare and gape. 

“Oh why, that wasnʼt a baby—it was Mr. Cuddlesworth!!” the host cackled. “Donʼt forget to drop by the souvenir shop for your own Mr. Fuzzy Wuzzy and Mr. Cuddlesworth on your way out.”

“What the hell?” Gladio looked at the little parachute that was left in his hands after he ripped it off the bomb. “I gotta get me one of these!”

“Weʼll drop by the souvenir shop on our way out!” Ignis barked, dashing for the shaken enemy. Right now, the murder machine was right where he needed it. 

It felt a little strange, reaching his mind out to a new materia. It felt to him like he was walking into a congregation where he knew no one and yet everyone was eager to make his acquaintance—different voices whispering in his mind, holding his hands, teaching him a foreign language, a new heat that was not warm like _Fire_ or soothing like _Cure_. 

But searing, like the sudden cut of a blade on skin, a thousand imprints of those jumping from his fingers as Ignis kicked himself up to a spin and flung the _Lightning_ spell onto the enemy. 

Silver light and metal crashed together like fire on wood. The machine broke down onto the arena floor, twitching wherever the spell ate at it. Gladio must have yelled something spirited to him but he was still halfway between his head and reality when that happened. It had been ages since he had played with a new materia that heʼd completely forgotten how it affected him. 

By the time Ignis remembered what it felt like to be in his own shoes, Gladio was already up on the Cutterʼs back and had jammed his shield onto the crevice between the main body and that thing at the back that looked like a boiler, where the bomb toy had hit it. Persistent smashing sounds told Ignis that Gladio was forcing it deeper with his foot. 

He was running, and heʼd almost forgotten why he was running until he caught sight of Gladioʼs spear on the ground. He snatched it up just as he dropped to his knees to slide towards the back of the machine where he jammed the prongs in through the hinges. 

Like a sleeping man getting poked by a needle, the machine jolted awake and rolled backwards. Ignis managed to register a couple of startled cries before he felt hot metal smack him up his forehead and send him straight to the ground. 

When he came to, Gladio was shouting at his face, wild-eyed, a hand on his shoulder. He must have blacked out. 

“What…?” Ignis moaned. 

Gladio whistled a breath of relief. The announcer mentioned something about being alive to which the crowd replied with more screaming. “Keep those emerald greens open for me, Ignis. Iʼm gonna finish this.” He looked a little pale. 

“Gladio, you canʼt…” Ignis groaned. He started to get up. 

“Hey.” Gladio winked at him, making his silly heart jump. “Watch me.” If he only knew how much Ignis had already been watching him… 

Gladio took off, then, towards the noisy clattering and whirring in the room. Ignis forced himself up to sit, touching his forehead gingerly when he felt something wet trail down the side of his face. His fingers came off with red, of course. 

Ignis groaned, shutting his eyes. What was he doing here? What the hell was he going to tell the office now? 

They better finish this up quickly before he lost an eye or something. He got up to his feet, then, a _Cura_ spell dancing from his fist to the rest of him and then he was dashing back into the fight, where Gladio was diving away from another rolling charge. Metal screeched on concrete where they scraped. Ignis wondered if it was just him or if the machine already looked lopsided and worn from all their efforts. “Gladio!!” 

“In a minute!” Gladio cried, tensing himself when the screeching cutter made a wide spin towards him, arms out like a plane for a sideways cut. “Get outta the way!”

“Gladio, what are you doing?!”

“Just get—” Ignis found out soon enough; as soon as the machine had drawn close enough, he fell back to the floor and grabbed onto one of those outstretched limbs towards the pit. Between the Cutterʼs weakened state, its speed and his mass, the metal twisted back against its socket until the whole thing was torn free from its side. 

Gladio had to make the split second decision to slide it forward, somewhere safe, before he rolled off sideways from the momentum. 

“Gladio!” Ignis landed on his side again, hand glowing green where it grasped Gladio on his bicep. Those amber eyes became alight with awareness. “Are you all right?”

“Iʼll live,” Gladio assured him. He pulled himself up by Ignisʼ grasp while the mad machine sought out the room for them again, each whir and groan marked by a click of pain. If it were something organic, it would be limping by now. “Weʼre almost there, Ignis!”

“Good.” Ignis got up from his feet. “Now weʼll just have to outlast it. Those blades?”

“Got it right here,” Gladio said, clapping him on the arm as he took off towards the broken limb. 

Ignis nodded and moved to the middle of the room, gauging the distance between him and the enraged Cutter zeroing in on him as he tapped into the _Lightning_ materia again. An ugly screech of metal on concrete burst from the unsteady machine before it came at him again. 

Halfway into its charge, Ignis gathered the spell in his fist, pulled himself to a tight spin and flung it to the ruined Cutter. A spatter of sparking web burst upon contact, bringing it down to its hypothetical knees again. 

Just in time for Ignis to come down on his so Gladio could boost himself up to a flight, those severed blades held overhead like a massive sword that he shouldnʼt have been able to carry. But he wouldnʼt have been able to survive this long if he wasnʼt ridiculously strong either. 

With a final roar, he threw the arm onto the machine, letting it fly straight to its main body while he landed on two feet and whirled sharply towards Ignis. 

Ignis rolled himself forward and tucked himself into the space between Gladioʼs arms and shoulders. 

He never saw how they won the fight, just felt the ground shake and saw the burst of light and fire from over Gladioʼs shoulders. Those strong arms pulled him tighter to his thick chest, and Ignis turned his face to it, putting his nose so much closer to his odour, when a rain of debris clattered around them. Gladio felt warm like a furnace, and safe like a blanket. 

They didnʼt move until after the smoke had cleared, and the last of the roar had faded into a murmur. 

When they came up, the trumpet sounds of their victory filled the room, matched by the cheer of their supporters and the wild announcement coming from their ecstatic host. 

“Beating the odds one challenge after another, here are your winners of tonightʼs Sunday Special Match—Gladio and Ignis!!”

Ignis wanted nothing more than to fall into Gladioʼs big arms, nose pressed to his pecs, but he would have to control himself until after he had gotten home. Which made him wonder, what time _was_ it? 

But he was polite enough not to look at it while in the company of people, so he just nodded and waved politely to them. Gladio himself shared his gratitude in deep bows and sweeping waves. 

When Ignis turned to look at him, he caught those amber eyes sparkling like jewelry in the light of his smile. This…this was the face he knew, more than the weary fighter who sagged heavily in his seat. 

And now that he was back, Ignis found himself smiling easily, as well.

—

This time, when they returned to the waiting room, they were followed by a team of professionals who would wash and treat their injuries themselves.

It almost reminded Ignis of the first time heʼd gone out with the Neighborhood Watch, trying to catch this errant Cerulean Drake that had been terrorizing the sector at night. That hadnʼt gone too well and he ended up getting taped all over with the amount of wounds he sustained. 

It was more or less the same now, with the absence of broken bones, busted faces and a bloody eye. A suit would be more than enough to conceal the majority of Ignisʼ cuts and bruises. Combined with the curative effects of a healing materia and the daily intake of a certain volume of potion, he would be free from the bindings and his injuries in no time. 

The same prognosis was given to Gladio, who even then politely asked to keep his shirt on. After a round of reminders and congratulations, the medical team finally left them alone. 

Ignis pulled out his right dagger from his sheath and removed the _Lightning_ materia to hand it back to Gladio. 

“Hey, you know what?” Gladio refused it with a wave of his hand. “Keep it, itʼs yours.”

“You’re the one who bought it.”

“You’re the one who used it to save our asses,” Gladio chuckled. “Iʼm not really good with materia, anyway. Just take it as a souvenir for tonight.” Another gift from Gladio. 

Ignis raised the materia in thanks to his friend. “Iʼd been thinking about getting a new one, anyway. So donʼt mind if I do.”

“There you go,” Gladio chuckled, tossing a hand to Ignisʼ blade where he returned the orb. “It suits you.”

“Thank you,” Ignis said, smiling. He gestured to him after putting away the blade. “Shouldnʼt we be getting your prize money now?”

“ _My_ prize money?” Gladio snorted, turning to the rapping on the door. “Itʼs almost as if you werenʼt out there, risking your life with me.”

Their visitor was a young man who scanned the room, until those gray blue eyes landed on Ignis. “Ignis!”

“Noct,” Ignis greeted him, getting up on his feet to meet his younger friend for a low-five. “I thought youʼd be on your way home by now.”

“Well, I canʼt leave without congratulating the champions,” Noct answered, dancing backwards on his feet, putting one hand on his side. “Get ready for Prompto, though, I think heʼs gonna tackle you tomorrow in the office.”

“Good to know heʼll be back.” Ignis nodded with a smile. “I could certainly use his help. By the way, this is our common friend, Gladio. Gladio, this is Noct.”

“Thanks for the shield,” Gladio said to him as he clasped his hands for a firm shake. 

“Nothing to it. I betted on you, too, since the first round,” Noct replied haughtily. He jutted his head at Ignis. “Otherwise, he was gonna cut me down to size.”

“Noct…” Ignis eyed him with a warning, though it only made Gladio laugh. 

“Anyway, Iʼm gonna go now.” Noct pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “You need a ride?”

“Weʼre good, Noct,” Ignis assured him, raising his fist instead. “Thank you for the offer.”

“Next time, then,” Noct replied, bumping fists with him. 

He left soon after that, in the company of his bodyguard. 

Ignis waited until he heard the elevator doors slam shut outside in the corridor before he returned to his partner who slapped his bandaged hands on his knees and pushed himself up to his feet. 

“Well,” Gladio grunted, reaching under the table for his usual gym bag. “Let’s see if that office is still open.”

“I donʼt need that prize money, Gladio,” Ignis reminded him, stopping the man who shouldered his things. “My prize is right here, in this same room.”

Gladio spread his hand. “Look, the materia ainʼt much—”

“I meant you, you idiot.”

Gladio had a strange look on his face when he snapped to Ignis, as if he was caught between a smile, a blush and a gape. He broke through his awkwardness with an airy laughter, forcing himself to relax as he shifted between his feet. “You flirting with me?”

“I wasnʼt the one who flirted first,” Ignis countered. He shifted his form so he could stand facing Gladio with his shoulders, arms across his chest. “And since we seem to be openly flirting with each other now, perhaps we can be open about something else.” He paused to let that sink in a little

“I know we agreed to delay it until tomorrow, but I think I also understand why you specifically chose a day after tonightʼs match,” Ignis went on. “Well, now that itʼs over…now that youʼve cleared your head,” he spread an arm to his side, “and now that Iʼm here…perhaps it would not be unwise to advance our meeting a night earlier.”

Gladioʼs gaze fell briefly to his feet, before he chuckled softly and smiled at his shoes. “Yeah, youʼre right. And after what you did for me, I think nowʼs a good time, too. So,” he nodded to the door, “wanna go grab dinner? You can hold my hand to make sure I donʼt run away.”

Ignis raised a brow at him. “We are not yet at that stage of our relationship, Gladio.” When Gladio threw back his head to laugh, though, he couldnʼt keep his own grin to himself.

—

They found a noodle shop tucked within an unknown corner of Wall Market, a hole in the wall that burned brightly with lanterns amidst shoulders bunched tight together, squeezed into the tiny shack that was full of the smell of garlic, stock, and sesame oil that left Ignis a little weak in the knees.

He didnʼt realize how hungry he was until he sat down on the tiny square table and was endlessly scanning the six-item menu. In the end, he had to ask Gladio to choose for him because he might end up ordering everything. 

“Iʼd be surprised if you ainʼt hungry after a long match like that,” Gladio shared, pushing the dish of pan-toasted dumplings towards Ignis who welcomed himself to another bite and savored the crunch and the saltiness in his tongue. Gladio laughed. “Least I get to watch you eat like this.”

“If what youʼre going to tell me is terrible enough that you have to delay it for days, now would be a good time to confess,” Ignis advised him, taking a third dumpling. “These are so good! Tender meat, sweet and juicy, balanced perfectly with the soy…” He dipped it lightly in his sauce and consumed the whole thing. 

Ignis groaned and rolled his eyes back. “I could eat this all week until I capture the recipe.”

“I bet itʼll taste good,” Gladio agreed with a beaming smile. Turning to the busy counter, he raised his hand and shouted, “Hey auntie, could we get two more plates of dumplings here?”

Their bowls of noodles came soon enough with their additional orders and their glasses of soda. Between their hunger and exhaustion and Ignisʼ deep appreciation of the food, they couldnʼt speak properly until well after the second serving of noodles. 

By then, the crowd had thinned out, and there was nothing left on their table but the last dregs of their soup and some oily plates where there used to be dumplings. 

Gladio hiccuped a laugh suddenly, swirling the melted ice in his cola. “Iʼve never seen anyone eat that well.”

That revelation unearthed a round laughter from Ignis, borne by a mixture of embarrassment and delight, a hand flying up to obscure his smile. “Should I have watched my face?” 

Gladio was grinning when he shook his head. “Thanks for trusting me this much,” he said to him. 

With a shrug, Ignis leaned back to his seat, then, crossing his arms again. “Well, I wasnʼt the first.” That was Gladioʼs invitation to start talking. 

By the smile on his face, Ignis knew he recognized his cue. Even still, Gladio took his time to just nod, tapping the table lightly with the bottom of his glass. 

“Remember what I told you back in the massage room?” he began finally, warm coffee eyes riding up to meet him. Paired with a handsome smile, it had the effect of a puppy pawing at Ignisʼ guard. 

“Which part?” Ignis asked. “We talked about a lot of things, then.”

Gladio nodded. “I told you a lot of things, then,” he agreed. “I also told you…that our bodies tell us more than we know.”

Ignisʼ brows frowned, prompting Gladio to keep going. 

“Your back muscles are hard,” Gladio began, putting his ones to the back of his seat. “You have stretch marks under your arms and your hands are rough. You donʼt flinch when anyone talks to you, you show us your eyes…and when you speak, itʼs like I can hear you from your face alone.” He gestured to his one with wiping motions. 

Ignis curled his brows. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It tells me youʼre a hard worker,” Gladio revealed. “You carried yourself to where you are now by the muscles on your back. You didnʼt let anyone do your work for you, ‘swhy your hands are rough and youʼre flawed with stretch marks. You never look away when youʼre being talked to, you donʼt fix your face or your voice.” He shook his head. “Means youʼve got nothing to hide.”

Being picked apart like this in the middle of a noodle shop, though, Ignis certainly was tempted to hide his face now. 

“On top of that, you donʼt mince your words,” he went on, bracing his elbows on the tabletop, holding his fists over his empty bowl. “And you carried me through that match, even when you were still doubting me.”

“I didnʼt…” He never doubted him anymore when he joined him in the arena. But, he did give him a reason to think that way. 

So Ignis stopped and diverted his attention to his bowl. “I had…complete trust on you before I joined you in the Colosseum,” he replied instead. Then he looked up to face him again, “But I admit, I never gave you a reason to think that way of me, despite how I told you that I dislike ambiguity. It was not my intention to leave that part unclear.” He offered a little smile on his face. “For that, I hope you will forgive me.”

“And that,” Gladio pointed at him, “is exactly why I wanna keep you as my friend. Youʼre honest and smart, and you earned everything you are, everything ya got by your own hands. And I know I can always trust a hard worker.”

“Why,” Ignis laughed softly, “was this an audition, all along? That free massage, the Colosseum, were they tests of my integrity as a person?”

“Hey, it ainʼt like that…”

“The way you speak of me, itʼs almost as if you want my company specifically,” he chuckled on. “As if…” He paused, when he ventured into his next line of thought. Gladio said he trusted him wholeheartedly, and that he wanted to keep him as his friend. He also said that he was protecting his investment… 

“Gladio,” Ignis began anew, “do you not have friends?”

“Me?” Gladio snorted and cackled, putting himself back against his seat. “‘course I do! Cʼmon, youʼve seen how friendly I am.”

“Do you not have friends that you trust?” Ignis asked instead. 

That prompted a change in Gladioʼs expression. His cheer became dampened by the silence of embarrassment, though a little smile persisted on his face but just enough to keep the wrong idea off the table. “Well,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I could use more.” In this ugly, treacherous world under the plate, the reason why Gladio had extended his kindness so readily was because…he felt alone. He had no one that he could count on… 

Ignis wondered if he had any family left. When he expressed himself so generously to him, Ignis wondered if it was because he was like a boy who was excited to find someone he could be honest to. 

Anyone would be thrilled to find a person like that. Ignis breathed out quietly through his nose. “Thank you,” he uttered. 

“Hm?” Gladio pulled his smile wider, getting that cheerful persona back on. “What for?”

“For trusting in me,” Ignis explained with a smile of his own. “Despite how I said I distrusted you. And Iʼm glad you didnʼt let that change us.”

“Yeah, well,” Gladio shrugged, drumming a random beat on the tabletop with his fingers, “I knew you were worth fighting for.” When Ignis cracked up, he broke out into a wide snickering grin. 

“Keep that up and Iʼd think youʼre really only here to flirt with me.”

“Do I have your permission?” What business does he have being a gentleman like this?! 

Ignis opened his mouth in surprise of his question but could only cough and stammer. This was like a problem that he didnʼt need, but also didnʼt mind. 

In the end, all he could manage was a deep sigh as he slumped back in his seat, contented to simply share a smile with his friend. He was asking for permission to flirt with him and the way he put it, he may as well ask if it was okay to be his suitor and then his boyfriend, as well. 

The idea of which wasnʼt…horrible…in fact, he might…Ignis thought he might…

It was an embarrassing thought, but…he might like it… 

“Wednesday,” Ignis decided, delaying the inevitable. 

“Oh, come—” Gladio snorted, throwing his hands up. 

Ignis laughed with him. “Give me until Wednesday to make a decision.”

“Yeah, okay,” Gladio ceded with his hands up. His head bounced in nods while he picked up his glass to drain it. “Okay, I got nothing on that.” Ignis probably didnʼt need that long to be convinced about his emotions, though. 

But rather, he thought as he gazed upon Gladioʼs handsome face, maybe he needed the time to prepare himself for a future with this man.


	6. Chapter 6

After an exciting weekend in Wall Market, the ordinariness of a stressful Monday felt like a blessing and a vacation. Back to back meetings, busy phones, late lunches and unpaid overtimes…these used to be the bane of Ignisʼ existence, the curse of being trapped in an evil cycle of poverty and a paying job. 

Ignis would never have imagined that one day, he would actually come to enjoy them, swinging between one deadline and the next as if it was a sport and he was the star athlete. It almost seemed as if he gained a newfound appreciation for his employers and his thankless job. No matter how his arms felt sore or his thighs felt stiff, he never let his energy flag and flew between his tasks like some caped superhero. It was a gift, after all, to move in familiar territory where he could pretend to forget all the risky decisions heʼd ever made in the span of…a single night. 

It was, also, a good excuse to pretend he didnʼt catch anyone sneaking glances at him, or pointing to him, whispering between themselves and the phone that they shared. When they asked him how his weekend was, he only told them that it was good. If anyone inquired about the tapes over his brow, he only laughed politely and pulled the accident card as he excused himself. 

Prompto was the only one who was graced with his honesty. Like a reward for being made to wait the whole day for Ignisʼ account, he spilled everything to him as they drove to his house and prepared for dinner. 

“Did you get to use materia?” he asked. 

“I did,” Ignis answered honestly, sliding the enoki mushrooms into his boiling pot of stew. “All three of them. Before the last round, Gladio bequeathed me his Lightning materia. It was good fortune.” 

“Are you gonna give it another go?”

Ignis laughed and shook his head, turning down the heat. “Highly unlikely.”

“But what if Gladio goes again?” What indeed… 

Ignis shrugged, bringing the scallions to the kitchen counter to slice them up in rings. “Iʼll just have to convince him otherwise. Iʼm sure I can do it.” He knew now what he meant to Gladio. 

“Oooh,” Prompto swooned, leaning closer from his high stool to watch him work. “So now that you share a bond, Gladio canʼt say no to you, huh?”

“To be fair, a trial by fire sets quite the deep bond,” he chuckled quietly. “Get back in your seat, I donʼt want to poke you in the eye.”

“Ahh, yes, Sir!”

For his first night cooking for Prompto, he prepared beef and potato stew, some rice and a little cold tofu at the side, just to get rid of some surplus stuff before they spoiled. This was probably the most complicated menu set heʼd put together in a while, but he was inspired. It was so rare for him to enjoy such a bright and spacious kitchen with so much food and tools to choose from. 

He enjoyed dinner with Prompto and agreed to split the leftover stew between them. He would be able to bring home enough to share with a few neighbors and have some for himself the next day. 

They talked about nothing but the Colosseum still as they ate and had coffee after. Judging from the color of Promptoʼs freckled cheeks and the blaze in his blue eyes, he was enjoying himself. 

The only time he fell quiet was when Noct finally came through with some bootleg clips of the fight, which were shaky and loud at best. He watched them while Ignis took care of the dishes. 

Even when Prompto laughed, he was swooning. Ignis could hear the periodic cries of a sahagin, matching the beat of his spear slams, if he wasnʼt mistaken. “Ignis, youʼre so cool!! Can you teach me these things, too?!”

That made Ignis crack up in surprise as he set the dishes to dry on the rack over the sink. “That isnʼt talent, Prompto. You should know that I paid for those lessons with my money and my bones.”

“Are they _that_ hard?”

Ignis looked over his shoulder to nod at the younger man. 

Suddenly, that lively nature crumbled apart and Prompto exhaled pure dejection, now frowning at the phone he held. “Then thereʼs no way an ordinary guy like me can do this…” Now, he certainly didnʼt expect that… 

Ignis knew that Prompto was the typical kind of guy who wanted to try everything that looked remotely exciting and trendy. Skiing at the Icicle Inn, hiking the cliffs of Cosmo Canyon for that beautiful Cosmo Sunrise, running a triathlon in Costa del Sol…these were things he wanted to do and could do so he did. Or at least that was what Ignis thought. 

He never realized that these exciting achievements may be hinged on something deeper in him. Something that constantly searched without satisfaction. Looking around the empty house, Ignis wondered if that had something to do with it. 

He wiped his hands on the tea towel, hung it to dry on its swing suctioned to the wall before he marched back to the counter where he could face the frowning man. “Prompto?” he beckoned to him gently. Waited until those blue eyes rose to meet him before he continued, “I hope, sincerely, that you never live a life that isnʼt ordinary. That you never have to learn to fight like that just for you and your loved ones to wake up another morning.” 

“Ah,” Prompto bit his lip, “sorry, Ignis…I wasnʼt trying to make it look like you only did this for fun.”

“I know,” Ignis assured him, offering a little smile to ease the weight off his shoulders. “But if thatʼs what you thought, then I donʼt mind that either. One man between the two of us who will readily risk his life for the other should be more than enough. And I hope you will allow me to become that friend to you.”

“Ignis…” Prompto said, surprise painted all over his features…but that was as far as he got. 

In the end, he finished with a bow, and nothing else. 

Ignis left soon after with a bag for his take-home stew. Prompto chased him around with his gratitude until he stepped out the door, into the quiet avenue of sleepy houses, all facing each other in identical profiles. Exactly what the Shinra Employee Manual promised them in the Benefits section. “Iʼll be back tomorrow. What shall we have, then?”

“Mmm…” Prompto was back to his perky self, tapping a rhythm on his chin. “Something spicy!”

“Very well,” Ignis accepted, delighting upon the idea. “Let’s drop by the Wutai mart on our way here.”

“All right, roger that!” Prompto saluted sloppily. 

They bade goodbye, and Ignis began the short walk to the bus station that would take him to the train. Just before he turned the corner, his phone beeped from the back of his pocket. 

Gladio had sent him a message on Lifestrm, asking _Who's this?_ followed by a frozen picture of him twisting in mid-air with a sahagin spear. 

Ignis snickered from his nose, typing out a reply. 

_The man who saved your life_ , he answered. 

Gladio sent an emoji that was laughing with tears in his eyes. _Thanks for the tip. I was wondering if this belonged to an altar or something_

_Don't you dare do that_ , Ignis responded with some urgency, even though the look of his face never lost a shade of his delight. 

Gladio sent him a thumb up. _You ok?_

Ignis felt like nodding despite the manʼs absence. _My arms and legs are sore but that is to be expected. Some of my colleagues here inevitably learned of my weekend getaway but that is as far as the excitement goes. You? How are you feeling? Did anyone mention it to you?_

_Yeah, they noticed,_ Gladio replied. _But anyway I'm not the first guy who did this. I did get some congratulations, though. And some painkillers for tonight's show._ And then, apropos of nothing, he said, _Can't wait to see you wednesday_

Ignis felt his heart miss a beat. He might have stared too long, he almost missed the bus. He found himself a seat in the aisle, next to an old lady sleeping on the window, before he replied. _I meant next Wednesday, by the way._

_You're just gonna make me wait forever, ain't you?_

Ignis chuckled again, grinning brightly. He ate that smile off his face, pressing the screen to his chest as he looked around the bus. No one was looking at him funny so he returned to his phone. 

_Break a leg tonight, Toadio._

_One day, Iʼm gonna get back at you on that, ignis_ , Gladio promised him. 

Ignis left it at that, though the way he sighed and gazed out to the window near him, his phone on his heart, it was obvious that he would be thinking about this conversation until the next morning.

—

Early the next afternoon, honeyboy_gladio sent him another message: _You'll be at prompto's tomorrow night?_ Before that, Ignis had just liked a new picture he shared, of a protein shake and a bottle of beer. _Meet my shoulder angel and my shoulder devil_ , the caption read.

 _Yes_ , Ignis confirmed. _I was thinking perhaps we could get together for some late night coffee after the show._ Tomorrow was _the_ day he would have to give Gladio his answer, and he would be lying if he said he hadnʼt been thinking about it all night last night until today. 

_Coffee sounds great_ , Gladio agreed. _See ya tom!!_ Punctuated by a winking face. 

Ignis caught himself smiling at the charming little graphic. Might have sent one of his own if he hadnʼt heard Prompto from the entrance of the office, announcing his presence with a, “Manager Scientia!”

He came with Noct, who waved with less enthusiasm than his friend who clung to his shoulder and wiped the air. 

“Prompto, Noct,” Ignis greeted them back with politer nods, putting down his phone, face first to give his full attention to them. 

“Sorry this guyʼs late.” Noct nodded his head to the blonde one beside him. “I told him to go ahead but he got clingy.”

“You said you were gonna hand something to him!” Prompto protested. 

“Were you?” Ignis quirked his brows at Noct, leaning back in his seat in a look of interest. “And what would that be?”

Noct pulled a brown envelope from the inside of his jacket and handed it to him. That alone was enough to capture Prompto with an excited, “Oooh!” as his eyes followed its path to Ignisʼ hands. 

Ignis frowned curiously at the parcel and flipped it open. Inside, five 1,000-gil notes were lined up perfectly. He didnʼt remember striking a deal with Noct. “W, would this be…” He faced the brunette, again pulling at his fringes. Prompto was trying to tilt himself closer to the envelope without breaching the barrier of Noctʼs shoulders. “An advance for this weekend?” he guessed. It was the only thing he could think of. 

“Nah,” Noct shook his head then tossed his hand to Ignis, “itʼs your cut. Didnʼt feel like hogging it all to myself when you were the one who uh…worked for that, yʼknow? Well,” he tilted his head to his Prompto-less side, “you and the other guy.” He meant Gladio. 

This was from the money he won betting on them in the match. Ignis didnʼt know what else to do except to puff out a little chuckle and count the notes with his eyes again. Heʼd refused Gladioʼs prize money because he was never interested in it and he knew he promised Madam M a portion of it. He didnʼt want to leave him much less. This one, though… 

Ignis raised the envelope in thanks before he set it aside on his table. “It seems impolite to refuse.” And it was—simply put, Noct wasnʼt Gladio and he couldnʼt think of a situation where giving the money back wouldnʼt result in an awkward situation. “I really appreciate it.” Besides—he could put this one to good use. 

“Hey, Noct.” Prompto poked him on his arm and held out his hand, pouting a little with his lips. 

Noct only smirked at his friend, though, and offered, “Wanna go down this weekend? Iʼll get the tickets.”

“I would prefer you both stayed away from that place forever,” Ignis sighed, fixing his glasses. “Besides, Noct, donʼt we have homework to do on Saturday?”

“All right, geez.” Noct clicked his tongue, scratching his head. “You know I can still cancel, right?”

“Oh, are you going to his place?” Prompto piped up. “Iʼll meet you at the central station. We can go together!”

“Much obliged, Prompto,” Ignis accepted his offer with a gracious nod. 

“Hey, Prompto,” Noct eyed him from over his shoulder, “donʼt you have your own project you have to work on?”

“What? I can do it in your place, too! Itʼs not like I have to haul the whole engine, yʼknow?” his friend protested. 

Ignis chuckled at their little exchange. “Perhaps we can talk about our arrangement on Saturday in earnest, then. Some coffee?” He reached for the wallet sitting next to his laptop and lifted it in a small salute. “My treat, of course.” 

“All right!” Noct knocked his fist with a giggly Prompto and shared a grin with him. 

After office hours, Ignis dropped by the department store and bought himself two new shirts, care of Noctʼs blessing and the brandʼs BOGO sale. He tucked one of them in his closet and hung the other one to be worn the next day. 

And then, it was Wednesday. 

Ignis knew he made the right choice when a female colleague had complimented him on his new top in the lift. White, pinstriped in gray, it was perfect for the workplace and a date after. 

_A date._ Incredible, he was calling it a date now, but what else could it be? He and Gladio both knew that it didnʼt matter now what sort of answer Ignis gave him. The truth was going to come out one way or another. And the truth was that…the truth that heʼd always known was that… 

“Manager Scientia!!”

Prompto surprised him by being early. Ignis wouldnʼt have caught him if he wasnʼt jumping with his arm straight up, trapped awkwardly between the vending machine and a Shinra executive leaning down to take his bottle of cold coffee. 

“Prompto,” Ignis greeted him with a little note of surprise as he approached. And then, the other one, when he finally came up to face him: “Why, Senior Manager Ferro.”

Ferro looked embarrassed as he straightened up and waved the bottle to him. “Good morning, Mr. Scientia. Please donʼt mind me taking some of your coffee again.”

“Let me guess,” Ignis replied with a smile, moving a slow arm towards the excitable Prompto who stumbled towards him, “broken again?” 

“How did you know—oh right,” Ferro rolled his eyes, “because itʼs always been broken.”

“Certainly, Iʼm sure you can escalate that now,” Ignis chuckled, just as Prompto seized him suddenly with two hands around his elbow. Heʼd always known the man to be a healthy and fit individual but he never expected the strength of his grip. He shot him a look of surprise. 

Prompto only grinned widely at him. “Manager Scientia, thereʼs something we gotta talk about!”

“Very well, I brought breakfast,” Ignis told him. While Prompto cheered with a, “Yahooo!” he turned to Ferro and gave him a little nod to excuse them. Ferro responded in kind with a wave of his bottle. 

He let Prompto tug him to their office, then, almost causing him to stumble. “Is this really that urgent, Prompto?”

“A little?” Prompto laughed nervously. “Cʼmon, put down your bag so we can talk!” 

No sooner had they sat down in the cafeteria with cups of coffee, splitting Ignisʼ breakfast of rice balls and some sausages, than Prompto spat out his important message. 

“Cancel tonight?” Ignis repeated in his surprise. Prompto nodded, cheeks full of rice. “But, what will you have for dinner?”

“Ignis—Manager, itʼs fine!” Prompto insisted despite the food in his mouth. “We can just eat out later. Besides, someone told me youʼve got somewhere more important to be later!”

“Who?” Who was that liar? Ignisʼ phone chirruped. He swiped past his lockscreen to check the message. 

_Good morning!!!_ honeyboy_gladio greeted, following it up with a picture of a VIP ticket to a show called the _Boysʼ Night In_ happening tonight at 8 in the _Honeybee Inn_. 

Ignis stared hard at his screen. 

“Is it Gladio?” Prompto asked. 

“How do you know Gladio and I are meeting later?” Ignis looked up to meet him with round eyes. 

Which was a look Prompto matched with his own gape. He didnʼt. Prompto didnʼt know about that date. 

Ignis opened his mouth and held up a finger. 

“Ahhh, I knew it, somethingʼs happening between the two of you!!”

“I would appreciate it if you keep your voice down!” Ignis barked in his panic. 

“Then that means you canʼt not go to the show later, right?!” Prompto leaned over his tabletop, elbows heavy with his weight. Ignis eyed him with a general look of discontent. “He asked me really nicely, so I said yes.”

“ _He_ asked you?” Ignis returned to his phone. 

“Yeah! He sent me a message on Lifestrm.”

Heʼd missed a third message from the man earlier but now he saw it: _Bee there, ok?! Can't wait to see you!_ Planet help him, who died and created this puppy in the shape of a gorgeous man?! What right did they…?! 

“I, I see…” was all Ignis could manage as he checked the ticket again just in case he was just imagining it. Well, it wasnʼt like he had any reason to say no…and between Prompto, Gladio and the eager rhythm of his heartbeat, it wasnʼt like he could.

—

So at 7 in the evening, Prompto drove them to a fast food diner for a quick dinner and then dropped him off at the station where he took the train to Sector 5ʼs undercity exit. In half an hour, he would be getting off the Chocobo and making his way to the nightclub. With time to kill, he passed by the flower shop and thought briefly about getting Gladio a simple bouquet like what Prompto once did. They were both men, though, so he wasnʼt sure if it was appropriate. Besides, he really shouldnʼt draw more attention to the both of them than there already was.

At a quarter to 8, Ignis arrived at the _Honeybee Inn_ empty-handed. He presented the picture of his ticket to the gateman and was led into the waiting hall where the receptionist asked to see his pass. 

After a quick check on his computer where his brows met in concentration, he turned to Ignis with a brighter smile and an indulgent, “Good evening, Mr. Scientia. Weʼve been expecting you.”

“Me?” Ignis caught him clapping his hand and waving someone over his shoulder to approach. He turned and caught a blonde Honeygirl, her long hair pulled to a shoulder, jogging cutely over to him. 

“Right this way, Sir,” she tittered, wrapping long fingers with sparkling golden nails around his arm to guide him into the parting doors of the show room. Ignis hadnʼt had anything to drink yet but the way his ears burned, he thought he may as well have. 

The Honeygirl smelled like she slipped and fell in a pool full of berries. “So _youʼre_ Ignis,” she giggled. “I hope you like the show tonight because _Gladioʼs_ been working extra hard for it.” Wait—how did she know—? 

“Ah—is he?” Ignis suddenly felt speechless and warm along his collar. “Thatʼs good to know, then,” he stammered stupidly. But he didnʼt know what else to say…what _did_ one say if they found out that their stupid crush had orchestrated everything for them? 

She deposited him in the table just to the right of the center, snapped her fingers, dipped to Ignisʼ shoulder to tell him, “Heʼll be _right_ with you shortly,” then sashayed away, all in a single motion. A true, experienced dancer. The menu came right after she left; Ignis ordered a Midgar Spritz, just like Prompto had the last time. 

The show started right on the dot. The flower in the middle was still there but this time, it was a pair of Honeyboys that stood within it. The rest of the lights and the stage followed their solo performance. 

And it was all Honeyboys from side to side, top to bottom. Some women peppered their spinning ranks, just to add a bit of variety for the audience but Ignis was too busy seeking out a familiar anchor to take notice of it all. 

Until _he_ appeared, and then Ignis had eyes only for him—his Honeyboy Gladio who entered the stage with a jaunty strut and his thick hips snapping for attention. For all that he boasted of his sharp mind, that was the only time it hit him that he was in another Honeybee show featuring his favorite dancer. 

He was among the third wave of performers, coming in from the right. When Gladio turned to look at him, Ignis knew they had this table singled out for him and felt like a complete idiot when he straightened up, smiled and waved a little. Like this was Gladioʼs birthday party and he was the odd friend whoʼd been invited for some reason. 

Gladio couldnʼt grin at him, but he pulled up his lips and winked at him before he turned his face forward, which was more than what Ignis needed to remember how the beating of his heart felt. As soon as Gladio received a Honeygirl in his arms, he began to put those hard muscles into good use—lifting her, bending her back, before he passed her on to the next Honeyboy who leaned with her. With his arms empty, he could then snap his fingers as he swirled his shapely ass. 

Ignis couldnʼt believe how much heʼd missed this part of Gladio. Heʼd seen too much of his warmer, friendlier, charming sides over the past few days that heʼd completely forgotten how fucking sexy he looked when he danced. How he felt between his legs, how his tongue tasted dry whenever his eyes glazed over the breadth of his chest or the curve of his waist. Suddenly, all his wet dreams felt perfectly justified. 

What was it they liked to say? Get you a man who could do both? Well, Ignisʼ man could do more than two things. 

Ignisʼ man…maybe there was some merit in just skipping the whole flirting thing and heading straight to the courtship part of their relationship. They…they _were_ …eventually going that direction, anyway…right? 

Or was he…was he thinking too fast? Maybe he should stop and reconsider? Did he really want Gladio this much to set aside his better judgment, let his feelings take the wheel this time?

—

A _Honeybee Inn_ Boysʼ Night In show (as opposed to a boysʼ night out) was basically a reverse of the usual Honeybee stuff in that there were more men than women throughout the night. Which meant that Gladio had more roles to play, though Ignis wondered if that was also because the establishment had always had more female employees than men.

Whatever the case was, Ignis was the clear winner here. Throughout the dance numbers, Gladio would sneak little glances at him, clearly showing off, making a habit of it before or after he did anything with his sumptuous hips or his thick arms. And Ignis was the fool who could never be subtle with his laughter and his smiles. Was it any wonder, then, that Gladio knew it was working? 

Some time after the intermission number, those two Honeyboys from the opening sequence had been about to exit the stage when a squad of Honeygirls stopped them and brought them back to the middle. Gauging from the looks on their faces and the stutter in their movements, this wasnʼt a part of their choreography. But for the rest of their friends, it was. 

And so was their marching exit from the stage, into the crowd which came alive with howls and cheers as the army of Honeyboys welcomed themselves to join their adoring fans in their tables. Ignis watched from his place at the front, clapping absent-mindedly. 

He only turned to his Honeyboy over his right shoulder when he dropped himself to his plush couch with a grateful sigh, wiping the sweat from his heavy brows with the back of his hand. “‘bout damn time,” he groaned. 

“Gladio!” Ignis was aware of how absolutely delighted and surprised he sounded when he said that. He bounced a little in his seat so he could face him comfortably. “I see this has been your plan all along.”

Slumped against the couch, Gladio winked at him. Be still, his heart. “Iʼm no Mr. Strategist but I got some ideas of my own. You enjoying yourself?”

“As if you arenʼt aware,” Ignis snorted, though his good mood was still quite obvious in the arch of his lips. “Where did you get the money for my ticket?”

“You wouldnʼt agree to split the prize so I decided to treat you to a show.” Gladio nodded towards the stage. “Tonightʼs perfect—itʼs their graduation show so I got a couple of minutes to sit here and relax with you until I gotta go back up.”

“So thatʼs the story.” Ignis turned to the front again to watch. There were still dancers, of course, but for the most part, the attention was on the two crying Honeyboys, a lighted cake in front of them. “Are you close to either of them?”

“Not really,” Gladio admitted. “Believe it or not, this is only my second time dancing with them. Must have been around for some time to earn this kinda treatment, though. Like your shirt, by the way.”

Some time before the first hour ended, Ignis had removed his jacket to get more comfortable. The better for him to enjoy the show. Ignis smiled at him with a knowing look, proud of his foresight. “Thanks. I bought it especially for tonight.”

“Ooh, someoneʼs amping up their flirting game.”

“And who says I bought it to flirt with you?” Ignis quipped. 

“ _Ugh._ ” Somehow, Gladio managed to sink even lower in his seat, both of his hands folding onto his heart as if Ignis had just dealt him a mortal wound. Ignis tried not to laugh but Gladioʼs handsome presence was making it difficult. Was making all sorts of thinking difficult, basically. “Didnʼt think youʼd be the hard-to-get kind.”

Ignis shrugged, as if to say it wasnʼt his fault he wasnʼt easy. Though he knew he would be lying, given how hard heʼd plummeted for the delightful man next to him. Who heʼd only known for _days_. “Try not to disappoint me by giving up too easily.” He would really be disappointed if Gladio gave up just like that, though. 

“You know how to drive a man wild, Ignis.”

“Only when I know he likes it.” 

Gladio clicked his tongue and sighed. “Makinʼ me wish we were having coffee now.”

“Iʼm going to assume that you mean that seriously, with the wordʼs real meaning,” Ignis eyed him as he said that. 

“What do you—” If it hadnʼt been for Gladioʼs self-control, he might have given them both away with his characteristic guffaw. But since he was still technically working, the most he could manage was a painful snort in his nose and a stunted laugh. “Ignis, you tease,” he gasped. “I wasnʼt thinking about that!” He had the look of being scandalized—and liking it. 

“Iʼm just covering my bases, Gladio.” Ignis raised a brow and a smirk. “Here, you look thirsty.” Gladio laughed again as he passed him his glass of pink lemonade. “Have one on me.”

“Thirsty, he says,” the Honeyboy chuckled. “Anyway, thanks for the offer but I canʼt drink.” He waved his hand, eying the empty glasses arranged neatly on Ignisʼ table. “Iʼm on duty.”

“Come now, itʼs just juice.”

“Actually, have you been drinking nothing but juice since the show started?” Gladio straightened up suddenly to inspect the folded umbrellas and toothpicks which used to carry little fruit slices. 

“Yes, I still have work tomorrow,” Ignis pointed out, with a tone of voice that insisted it was obvious logic. “I donʼt want to start, I canʼt afford to be late in the morning.”

“Cʼmon, your ticket has a free cocktail on the house! I thought youʼd like it.” His dear Honeyboy might have scowled a little at that. “Shame to let it waste like that.”

“Then I suppose I should expect an invitation from you on the weekend, hm?” Ignis smiled in triumph, putting his chin to his left fist. At the rate his mouth was going, he may as well have indulged himself with everyoneʼs free cocktail. Thinking before speaking was out, talking with your heart and your dick was in. He really ought to try and stop, though. 

Gladio opened his mouth in surprise at Ignisʼ jab. His protestations fell apart when he chose to laugh in his breath instead. “You better stop that,” he warned him. See? Just what he said. 

“Why?” Ignis pulled his brows to look curious despite the thrill dancing on his face. “I thought you enjoyed flirting?”

“‘cause it makes you so damn attractive, Ignis.”

That bold confession, coupled by his name and Gladioʼs distinctive growl. Ignis felt his heart stop, his brain freeze and his blood rush up to his face. 

Gladioʼs mouth formed an _oh_ of discovery, before it split sideways with a quiet, “Ahhh…” Until he was smiling cheerfully. “I see. So thatʼs how Iʼll get ya.”

Ignis glared at him, the look of a man who threatened to lose a game. “Donʼt assume thatʼs all it takes.”

“Oh, cʼmon, you think Iʼd be pulling all the stops if I thought you were that simple?” Gladio snorted, picking up his lemonade. “Give us some credit here, Ignis.” Boy, he wasnʼt lying, he _was_ pulling all the stops! First calling him attractive to his face, now tickling his ego? Should Ignis up his game? 

Oh, what for? They knew where they were headed, anyway. This was just them…playing a little until… 

Ignis turned back and raised a hand to catch the waitressʼ attention. “Excuse me, could I have another pink lemonade? Thereʼs a bee in my juice.” He heard Gladio sputter and choke at that. 

He was still coughing when Ignis returned to him, his half-drunk glass back on the table with some spills on the surface, the back of his fist pressed to his nose. “You couldnʼt have waited for me to finish?” he struggled to say. 

Ignis had to stifle his laughter as he grasped for one of the many table napkins heʼd earned with his drinks and started to pat Gladio carefully around his lips with it. A warm hand enclosed itself gently around his working one. “Iʼm sorry. I do apologize, Gladio. That was an ill-timed jest.”

“Yeah, careful with the make-up, I ainʼt got time to go backstage after this.”

“Of course,” Ignis said, pulling back his hand to inspect his work. Gazing at those full lips… 

Smirking softly back at him… “Well?” Gladio carried their hands down to the space between them. He didnʼt let go. 

Ignis felt his heat keenly. He tried his best but it was difficult not to melt in front of him, even when he kept telling himself that that would be embarrassing. With a simple smile, he nodded. “Still perfect.” Gladio still looked stunningly perfect. “The make-up still looks perfect.”

Gladio chuckled deeply. “You’re a hard man to please, Ignis.”

“I have to give you something to aspire for, shouldnʼt I?” Ignis smiled brightly. 

Something that made Gladio sigh deeply again. “You really just—” He snapped up suddenly, facing the stage. By then, the music had changed to an easier tempo; Ignis had completely missed the entire number but that was not his fault at the very least. “Oop, thatʼs me.” The Honeyboy stood up, then. 

Dropped Ignisʼ hand. 

He whirled at him for one last wink before he hopped onto the stage and started the long cue of Honeyboys heading for the center left, all of them swaying and stepping in perfect synchronicity. 

Ignis permitted himself exactly one swooning note as he carried his cheek with his right hand, the same hand that Gladio had graced with his touch. If he wasnʼt sure about his feelings before, he would be dumb to still claim the same denseness now. He wanted this man—heart and body, he wanted him. His caramel eyes, his burning touch, the shape of his lips, he wanted it all. 

It was a risk—theyʼd barely known each other for long and no amount of life and death situations was going to change that, no matter that it seemed like they were always drawn towards each other. But Ignis had never felt this way towards another person…in a long time, if at all. Normally so risk averse, he was ready to throw a little caution to the wind for this man, dip his toe in the water just to see where they could go. It could hurt, it could be extremely gratifying…Ignis didnʼt care. He told himself he would be ready either way. 

_You wonʼt know happiness without pain_ , he told himself. _You wonʼt know until youʼve tried._

His fresh lemonade came finally. He waited until he and Gladio met eye-to-eye before he drank it, keeping visual contact. 

He succeeded in almost making Gladio lose it onstage.

—

That show could have gone on forever. At the same time, Ignis couldnʼt have flown out of there sooner than the curtain had fallen.

Outside, he didnʼt have to wait too long for Gladio to come out either, dressed in his usual dark blue hoodie with a tank top inside. His scars were back, and his hair covered with a red cap, a souvenir from _Corneo Colosseum_. 

“So,” Gladio prompted, walking alongside him. “Got a place in mind?”

“I did a little research,” Ignis began to answer. “Thereʼs a place here that sells beans from other continents. A corner shop of sorts. Do you know of that?”

“Oh yeah, I do. Shouldnʼt be too far from here,” Gladio told him, pointing vaguely onwards. “I pass by it sometimes on my way to the gym. Canʼt miss it, you could practically smell the coffee within a mile, yʼknow?” He glanced towards him. “Anyway, cʼmon, Iʼll take ya.” 

“Please,” Ignis thanked him. As soon as Gladio had been distracted by the task at hand, though, he seized the opportunity to snatch off the cap and muss up his hair. Being only scant inches shorter than him made it easy for his reach. 

Probably not the best move to make on their first date. “Hey—” Gladio stumbled away from his hand and stared at Ignis hurrying back to his side. “Ignis?!” He had no regrets, though. 

“You look better without a cap,” Ignis explained simply, taking his closest hand to put the offensive item in it. “Come now, youʼve had a top hat on the whole show, wonʼt you let your hair breathe a little?”

“But it looks a little flat, donʼt it?” Gladio raked his fingers consciously through his locks. Maybe it did. 

But Ignis shook his head. He didnʼt mind. “I prefer to look at your hair, either way. Let me have this night, Gladio.” That was the boldest Ignis had been since he admitted to himself that he wanted to pursue his crush. 

Maybe that was why Gladio didnʼt have the heart to deny him. He only smiled shyly, ran his hand over his hair and stuffed his cap in his jacket pocket. 

They didnʼt speak again until they found the coffee shop, which stood open on all sides, the front facing one way and the tables the other. The kitchen was the only one sealed within glass, standing right in the middle. Gladio was right, the whole thing smelled absolutely like Ignisʼ paradise. 

“Let me get this one for us. What are you having?” Ignis asked, looking up to the menu board over the counter. 

“Uh…” Gladio began cluelessly. “What are _you_ having?”

“Iʼm looking at the Mt. Nibel Brew, Iʼve never had it before.” Ignis turned to Gladio who inspected the place more than what they offered. 

Gladio nodded on cue. “Uh…that sounds great. Iʼll have that, too.”

Ignis chuckled at his friend. “You arenʼt sure, are you? Not a coffee drinker?” 

“Well,” Gladio gestured at the expansive menu, “not like this. Most I had was instant stuff. Or whateverʼs in the coffee machine.”

“I see.” Ignis nodded in understanding. “Why donʼt you take a seat? Iʼll take care of things here. Iʼll see how I can refine that taste of yours.”

“Donʼt give me ideas, Scientia,” Gladio warned him with a half-naughty grin which made Ignis roll his eyes. 

“You couldnʼt have waited for me to sit down with you?” Ignis snapped weakly at the man finding them a table somewhere in the middle. Turning back to the menu, he caught the young barista waiting on him with a restrained smile. 

He felt the heat on his face and distracted himself by shifting his glasses again. “Mm, by any chance, would you have a light roast of the Costa beans?” he asked as soon as it wasnʼt awkward. 

After a few minutes of lording over the barista, he would finally make his way to Gladio with two cups of coffee, one light and foamy, the other dark enough to carry Ignisʼ reflection like a mirror. “I got you a Costa Latte,” he informed him. 

“Did it cost a lot-ay?” Gladio asked, aiming for the pun with a grin. 

“That depends on your taste,” was all Ignis said as he sat down in front of him, taking his own cup for a first sip. Gladio copied his movements. 

Gladio hummed out a delighted note after, setting down his cup in the same motion as Ignis. “Thatʼs good. Thatʼs probably the first coffee Iʼm gonna say I really liked.”

“Indeed?” Ignis smiled happily. “Itʼs probably the hazelnut. See, itʼs a time-tested cheat which I often employ in my own baking.” He pulled out his phone from his bag next to him and swiped for his notes app. 

“Ooh, you bake?” Gladio raised his cup again. “Gonna show me pictures of your pastries?” 

“What?” Ignis blinked at him. “Ah no.” He returned to his phone, tapping on diligently. “Unfortunately, I donʼt have pictures of my baked goods here. It has been some time since I had access to a proper oven, see. This wonʼt take long.”

“So what are you doing?”

“Taking down the recipe before I forget,” Ignis mumbled, scanning his work so far then typing again. “This way,” he smiled at Gladio, “all Iʼll need are some light roast Costa beans, then I can make it for you at home.”

“So youʼre a bit of a chef, ainʼt ya?” Gladioʼs fist hovered over his cup, blanketed by his other hand. “I remember you mentioned something about a recipe in that noodle place.”

“I cook when I can,” Ignis confessed, putting down his phone once he was satisfied. “I learned it more out of necessity than anything else.”

“Bet youʼre real good, though,” Gladio said, lifting his cup to him. “Coffeeʼs real good.”

“Thank you,” Ignis replied, wearing his smile honestly. Then he curled his brows when he asked, “What do you like to eat?”

“Hm?” Gladio set down his cup. “Me?”

Ignis nodded. 

“Now?”

“I mean,” Ignis shrugged as he straightened up, putting his hands around his coffee, “just in general. Any favorites? Comfort foods?” He sipped his coffee again, let the bittersweet notes fill his mouth and his nose. 

Gladio barely took a second to think before he threw his shoulders upwards. “Iʼll pretty much eat anything, yʼknow? I like cup noodles, grill stuff…if Iʼm really jonesing to satisfy myself, those are my go-to stuff.”

“Cup noodles?” Ignis laughed, putting his chin to his hand again. 

“Look, itʼs quick, itʼs hot, itʼs flavorful and itʼs filling.” Gladio raised his hands with his shoulders. “You canʼt go wrong with it.”

“It lacks nutrients, though.”

“We got a choice down here?” Gladio chortled, pulling up his lips for a sideways grin. “But I ainʼt gonna turn my nose up on a steak either if I got the chance.”

“Well done?”

“Medium rareʼs just right for me.”

“I agree.” Ignis nodded. “Youʼve got good taste.”

Gladioʼs brow rose with his knowing smile. “I gotta. Looks like thereʼs someone here whoʼs difficult to impress.”

Ignis snickered mildly at that comment, smiling almost shyly at his dark reflection. He raised his cup to hide it. 

“So you do this for all your friends?” Gladio asked after his own sip. “Make ‘em coffee? Ask ‘em what they like to eat?”

Ignis shook his head, setting aside his cup. “Only the ones I like,” he admitted, eying Gladio across him to drive the hint harder. 

Despite being the guy who flirted first, though, Ignis thought he wore a funny look on his face that was…half-delighted and half-stunned. Not quite the usual confident, sexy appearance that he was used to. 

Though Gladio tried to pull it back together when he chuckled and asked next, “I take it you donʼt have a boyfriend right now.” Of course they would get to this part of the conversation. 

Ignis shook his head, drawing his eyes to his hands on the table. “I…” He spread his fingers out on the surface. “…have never had…someone I could call a boyfriend before.”

If it hadnʼt been for the clutter of Gladioʼs cup on the table, Ignis might have insisted in wallowing in his shy admission a little longer. But he snapped in attention to the man staring at him across the table. 

“You’re serious?” Gladio sputtered, amber eyes round with genuine surprise. “N, never in your whole life? Never…never been kissed, never…”

“I had a girlfriend when I was younger,” Ignis clarified for him, though he couldnʼt keep his bemusement to himself when he smiled. “She was my first and last. I was only 16 when I met her in high school but when I turned 18, her brother returned from Wutai and…” He shrugged. “Well, I realized I was attracted to men.”

“But…you guys never became a thing.” 

“It depends,” Ignis sighed, relaxing in his seat. “We were attracted to each other. After my girlfriend and I broke up, we met in a motel and had sex. My first time with a man,” he chuckled softly, grinning as if at his own stupidity. “It was…good, the first few times. He was good to me, he made me feel good. But then,” he shrugged, “I realized that was all he wanted. And I wanted more; I wanted a real relationship that wasnʼt just sex. We didnʼt last longer than a few months.”

“And how old are you now?”

“Iʼm 22-years old.”

Gladio whistled. “Thatʼs a long time ago.” Then he grinned. “Guess that means I get to take care of ya.”

“Meaning?” Ignis pinched his brows, canted his head to the right. 

Gladio thumbed his chest. “Iʼm 23. Hope you like older guys.”

Ignis snorted. “Please, you are hardly older than I am.” 

“Well, it ainʼt like thatʼs my only qualification, yʼknow?” Gladio squared his shoulders. “Iʼm strong, Iʼm fit, Iʼm good with my hands and I got good survival skills.” He spread his hands open. “Relationships-wise, Iʼve been with men and women myself, but I donʼt screw around. I know I got what it takes to be in for the long run.”

Ignis watched him rest his elbows on the table edge, put his fists on the space between them. 

“I wonʼt blame you if you think Iʼm just playing with you,” he went on, lips pressed into a thin smile. “I said I wanted to be friends but then Iʼm flirting with ya and calling you handsome to your face…even though, like you said, we havenʼt known each other for a month. Pretty sure that ainʼt something new friends do.”

Ignis laughed and nodded. “Yes, I…I suppose that is…something reserved for another relationship…stemming from friendship.” He picked up his cup and drank the dark liquid. 

“Yeah,” Gladio said, nodding back. “So…” He hissed, rubbing the back of his neck. Ignis put away his cup again, folded his lips in to bite them. Here was a strong man, a large man, what right did he have to look so damn cute? “Well…you said you didnʼt like ambiguity so Iʼm gonna try and be as honest as I can.” He cleared his throat, squaring up. 

“I wanna take things further with you,” he confessed, keeping those dangerous eyes set on Ignis. “But…I donʼt wanna look insincere. I mean, I wanna prove to you first that I got what it takes to be your man.” _His man._

Ignisʼ heart skipped a beat. It was different, after all, if he was just saying it to himself, as a joke, but it was another thing entirely to hear the object of his affections saying it in his presence. In a serious tone. 

“I trust you, Ignis.” Gladio shrugged. “And I really enjoy talking to you, being with ya…I thought it was just me, but then…” He gestured to him. “But then you came out there to save my skin, and you made me this coffee and youʼre flirting back with me—”

“I do find myself attracted to you, Gladio,” Ignis interrupted him to lay the truth bare for him, drums beating in his chest. But it was like he said, they were going this way, anyway. Better for the both of them to cut to the chase, get the wheels rolling, right? Gladio straightened up suddenly in attention. “Physically…and emotionally. I enjoy the time we spend together, as well. But as weʼve both mentioned,” he pushed his glasses, “weʼve barely known each other for a month…and it seems quite reckless to jump the gun with a stranger based solely on mutual attraction, isnʼt it?”

“I…” Gladio scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, thatʼs what I thought youʼd say.”

“Then clearly, this means we must spend more time with each other,” Ignis concluded, feeling a thrill in his chest as those words passed his lips. When he smiled, it became the easiest thing in the world. “I would be very interested to enter a period of courtship with you.” And there it was, his signature on a contract. 

Gladio seemed to jump in his seat. “Y, yeah?” His breath tripped suddenly with laughter, his smile shining brighter than Wall Marketʼs neon lights. It warmed Ignis up, like coffee in his chest. Everything about this man was coffee—smooth, bold, delicious, comforting. “I…cool! Thatʼs…” 

“Yes,” Ignis laughed with him, his own heart dancing to the beat of a hidden love song. “Indeed.”

“Yeah…” Gladio said again, looking him in the eyes. How lucky he was—he would have more of those lovely ambers for himself in the days to come. “All right, then.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just an FYI, erring on the side of caution, i added _sexual harassment_ to the tags!

As far as Ignis was concerned, welcoming Gladio into his life was one of the best decisions heʼd ever made for himself. 

He didnʼt even have to wait too long to reap the benefits—the next day, he became the recipient of an enthusiastic _GOOD MORNING!!!_ message from his suitor, though it came while he and Prompto were already lining up for lunch in the cafeteria. The man had just woken up, and left a helpful reminder for Ignis not to skip a meal. Just as he and Prompto had sat down with Noct who complained that they took so long, he had to send half the building away when they asked to sit with him in the crowded room. 

The following lunch was more or less the same, this time with the additional question of, _What are you having?_

_Must you know every detail about my day, Gladio?_ Ignis had to school a smile off his face, though. He hadnʼt told anyone about this development between the two of them yet, even Prompto whoʼd excitedly asked him about the Wednesday show when he came in the next day. He kept everything vague, of course, and switched the topic immediately to Cindy to keep her admirer distracted. 

Speaking of whom: “Oh, oh, Cindy updated!!” 

They were standing in line at the sandwich station when Prompto made his excited announcement. Ignis peered at his phone just as his intern started to read the caption, “Thanks for your well wishes! My paw paw is home now, which means this Honeygirl is getting back onstage tonight! See yʼall later, x-oh-x-oh. Finally, the goddess is back!!” For which he gave a little bounce of joy. 

“Thatʼs certainly some good news, then,” Ignis joined his intern, adding a smile to his voice. “Did you send her those?” he indicated the same post with his head. Over her caption was a picture of a teddy bear and a pink bouquet, both from the flower shop at Wall Market. 

Sparing him a glance, Prompto nodded to him enthusiastically, stars in his eyes, before he returned to his phone to type out a reply. Oh, to be seen by your idol—Ignis knew that feeling all too well now. The joy, the addiction… 

Better make sure his intern didnʼt lose his way in his adoration. Ignis was already trekking that dangerous road for himself, and hadnʼt yet cleared the path for the younger man while he was at it. “Careful about your expenditures, Prompto,” Ignis reminded him gently. “Make sure you have enough to put in your savings.”

“Ahhh, I know, I know!” Prompto insisted defensively, looking a little guilty and red on the ears when he whipped wide-eyed at his friend. “I donʼt do it all the time, this was just the first time again since our first show…ah, itʼs Noct.”

He arrived in the form of a new message in their group chat called _let's eaaaatttttt_ in Shinra Talk. Something Prompto had created for the three of them. _sorry, i'm gonna run a little late,_ he said. _got some stuff i gotta rush for gramps_

“There goes our reservation,” Ignis muttered, sending out an _OK_ to Noct. “Prompto, why donʼt you save us a table? Iʼll get our orders.” He slipped his phone inside his jacket pocket. “Will you be having the usual?”

“Nah, Iʼm feeling some ham and egg today. Could you get me the set with the iced tea?” Prompto never once looked away from his screen. His blue eyes almost flashed feverish with his crush. 

Typical. “Certainly,” Ignis said, anyway. Prompto took off to seek out a free space, then, and Ignis moved up a slot. 

Between the line and the ordering and then waiting for their food, Ignis must have wasted 15 minutes of his precious lunch break just to procure their nutrition. Tray in hand, he started towards the middle of the room, looking out for Promptoʼs crayon-yellow head. It didnʼt take much long for him to single him out in a cluster of brunettes and dyed heads. 

A white-haired Shinra executive sat across him, causing Ignis to stop. By now, heʼd seen him enough times to know who he was even from his profile. 

Ferro brought a paper cup of coffee with him, set aside so he could enjoy his conversation with Prompto who sat in perfect formal posture, the first time heʼd ever seen him do it. Normally, you couldnʼt keep his spine and his shoulders straight at all, no matter how serious the conversation was. He held his phone between his hands but didnʼt bother with it, only held it close to his diaphragm. As for Ferro, his joint fist breached the middle of the table, as if he was too long for it. 

Ignis was tall for his age but he couldnʼt remember enjoying the same problem as Ferro. He was making his way to the table when Prompto jumped suddenly with a squawk and upset the coffee cup, causing it to spill. Other diners simply turned their heads for two seconds before they returned to their businesses. 

Ferro had a square of tissue and proceeded to wipe the table clean while Prompto helped by standing the cup. Ferro must have been in a bit of a panic himself, Ignis thought, because he was wiping the table without a clear direction before he remembered he could use the cup to catch the spill. He asked for it from the younger man, that gentle smile on his face to settle Promptoʼs jumpy nerves. Prompto tried to respond in kind and handed him the cup. 

Their hands met as Ferro took it. 

Ignis was instantly at the scene, half-slamming his loaded tray on the one side of the table so he could fill his hand with some napkins and drain whatever they couldnʼt catch. “Excuse me, could we have some more napkins here?” he cried…perhaps a bit obnoxiously than was necessary, across the room. Turning to the senior manager who couldnʼt seem to settle on an expression, he greeted him with a short bow. “My apologies for coming late, I saw what happened from across the room but kept getting interrupted on my way over.”

“Ah, I see,” Ferro chuckled nervously, still working his hands. “My, my, perhaps this is retribution for skipping my appointment with my neurologist.”

“It has been a long week,” Ignis offered to sympathize, even laughing a little. Service came soon enough with a proper towel and a mop to boot. 

He could finally turn to his stunned intern and offer him a hand on his shoulder. Ignis looked him in the eye when he asked him, “Are you all right?”

“Ah! Yeah, itʼs just…” Prompto gestured vaguely to the table. “The coffee spilled!” He laughed. 

“This is an office, that tends to happen a lot anywhere,” Ignis explained easily, hoping to settle his nerves. “Itʼs fine, Prompto.”

As soon as the table and the floor were cleaned up, Ferro excused himself, flustered and embarrassed and made his escape. 

Ignis couldnʼt stop himself from gripping his friend on his forearms, then, near the elbows. He looked him in his round eyes and asked quietly, “Prompto, are you sure youʼre okay?” The man was normally so jumpy but it wasnʼt like him to be clumsy without a trigger. 

Prompto insisted he was, though, head vibrating up and down, like he was asking Ignis to believe him. “Ah, ahh…insect! Th, there was an insect. O, or,” he looked down to their feet, drawing Ignis to the same floor, “I, I thought there was, I thought I felt something brush up my leg.”

“Yeah, Prompto and I hate insects.”

Prompto whipped to the voice over Ignisʼ shoulder. He cried, “Noct!” gleefully. 

“Did I miss anything?” Noct placed his lunch bag on his usual spot beside Prompto. 

“Nothing too exciting,” Ignis answered. He and Prompto started to unload their tray. “Prompto thought there was a bug on his leg and caused a cup of coffee to spill. Weʼd just finished cleaning up.”

“Whereʼd the cup come from?”

“Ahh, who knows? It was just there, yʼknow?” Prompto laughed. He didnʼt mention Ferroʼs involvement. So that part where Ignis thought there was skin contact… 

“Huh…well,” Noct shrugged, sitting next to his best friend, “guess I didnʼt see a cup.” He shared a smile with Prompto. “Oh, check my lunch out.”

“Hm?” Prompto watched as he unwrapped his lunchbox and unveiled its contents. Inside, over a bed of rice was the face of a cartoon sleeping Chocobo, cut out from scrambled eggs, seaweeds and carrots. A jolt of electricity coursed up to Promptoʼs shoulders and produced a tickled laughter and a fond applause. “Itʼs a Chocobo!! Wait, wait, I gotta take a picture!!” He nearly dropped his phone in his haste to boot up his camera. Typical Prompto… 

…for the most part, he seemed to be moving normally. Arguing with Noct for the Chocobo face, threatening to spill some of his salad side dish on his rice. Boasting high scores and trading game items with him later. When he laughed, it came out naturally despite its manic pitch. 

He left no room for Ignis to bring up Ferro again. Ignis started to wonder if maybe he had just imagined it but… 

His phone beeped. When he checked for the message, he realized Gladio had sent him two. 

_Can't help it if I miss you_ plus a smiley. He must have sent that message while they were cleaning up the coffee. 

_I'm gonna get some breakfast then hit the gym. Might not reply asap_

_Try not to strain your muscles from showing off too much,_ Ignis replied. _I'm having Avocado and Roasted Chocobo Sandwich today._

_Sounds good!!_ Gladio replied instantly. _Maybe I'll get some chocobo too. What time are you getting off work tonight?_

_Are you planning something again?_ Was Gladio going to come to the office to pick him up? That was what some of his colleaguesʼ special someones did, he knew. Ignisʼ heart felt loud in his chest. He wouldnʼt be able to reject Gladio if he said yes but he wasnʼt ready to introduce them yet… 

_I just wanna see your face and hear your voice,_ Gladio said instead. _Let's have a video chat later! I'll call when you're home_

_That sounds lovely,_ Ignis agreed. It would be a better thing to think about than what he just…thought he saw earlier. _I'm looking forward to it._ And on this one rare occasion, he added a smiley of his own. 

They didnʼt chat again for the rest of the day, and Ignis couldnʼt keep his eye away from Prompto until he and Noct had left for the day. 

That night, he didnʼt get to catch Gladioʼs video call either. It had been another long day in the office and by the time Gladio had called, he was already dreaming about labyrinthine offices and being late for five meetings.

—

He met up with Prompto on Saturday, just as theyʼd agreed, and spent the day in Noctʼs house, doing schoolwork and playing video games until late upon Noctʼs insistence. Ignis found out then that Noct was an only child and was mostly alone in the mansion (he lived in a mansion!) except for a few servants. As for his father Regis, he owned a law firm called _Lucis & Associates_ and was constantly occupied with it.

“By the way,” Prompto piped up from the passenger side, tapping at his phone, “can we cancel Monday evening again?” Since Ignis had gone on a date with Gladio the last Wednesday, he owed his friend one more dinner at home. 

“Of course,” Ignis agreed, stopping at the traffic light to let a long line of cars pass. Despite the late hour, Midgarʼs upper plate was still swinging on a weekend. “Do you have dinner plans?”

“Kinda?” Prompto laughed nervously and flashed him a familiar-looking ticket on his phone, sent by a familiar-looking name. “Remember when I said he asked nicely to let you off on Wednesday?” Ah… 

“Gladio bought you a ticket to the Monday show.” How much _was_ that prize money? It seemed like a dangerous thing for a generous man like Gladio to be the owner of it… 

Promptoʼs grin turned triumphant. “And just in time for Cindyʼs comeback!”

“Did you get to sleep at all, then?” That was a probing question. The lights flashed green. Ignis tapped on the gas pedal and rolled forth. 

“Yeah, I did.” Prompto nodded without a pause, bouncing forward with the movement of his head. “Ahhh, but I probably wonʼt be able to sleep at all tomorrow.” He laughed again. “Man, I wonder what I should wear…” So he hadnʼt been thinking about that lunch accident with Ferro… 

That was good. That was good to know…

Ignis wasnʼt sure, though, if he really ought to let that be the end of it. Even when Prompto wasnʼt saying anything…he knew he had a responsibility to make sure he was fine.

—

“By the way,” Ignis said, “how will you be getting to the _Honeybee Inn_ later?”

Prompto hummed out a long note, poking at his plastic bowl of stir-fried noodles. “Gladio said heʼll wait for me by the stable. I know how to get there on my own, anyway.” It wasnʼt the knowing that was the problem, of course, but the whole process of getting there to begin with. 

Ignis wondered if he was being too protective towards Prompto now but he understood that he couldnʼt just let him go on his own despite his confident note. Or that he was of legal age, and had a license to drive a car to boot…but he couldnʼt help himself. 

Which was why they were now having lunch in a meeting room full of documents Ignis claimed he needed sorted now, at all costs. That was just an excuse, of course. The real reason was that he didnʼt want a repetition of what had happened last week. Noct was stuck in school for the day and that meant they had no one to reserve a table for them again. Which was exactly how that whole scene unfolded. 

“I see…well, would you mind if I joined you?” Ignis hovered his fist over his finished cordon bleu. “We can do what we did the first time we went. There are some things Iʼd like to look at in Wall Market, see.” Like a man named Gladio, who he knew he didnʼt need a ticket to see anymore. He could just wait for him at the stage door and it wouldnʼt be weird. 

Ignis wondered if he was maybe enjoying this relationship far too much than was wise, but all those sweet messages he was getting had spoiled him rotten. And it would be nice to surprise him for a change, he thought with an inner smile. He told himself, then, that the real reason behind his request was his suitor, and not his baseless worries. 

Prompto lit up at his offer. “Huh? Really?!” He bounced on his seat, clapping his hands in victory. “All right, letʼs do it!”

As before, they would leave at 7, have dinner together and be there by 8. That would give Ignis enough time to look around for a random gift for Gladio, just for the hell of it. 

At 3pm, however, Reeve called his managers for an emergency meeting. “Basically, we might be in for another budget cut.” Ignis might be the only person in the room who didnʼt groan or slump or smack their fists on the table. “But whether or not we are, I need you all to look into our active projects— _all of them_ —and submit the total expenses and remaining funds to me tomorrow by 11 in the morning.” More groaning, more complaints. 

Reeve raised his hand for silence and attention. “I know, this isnʼt fair to any of you. I know first hand how hard everyone in this room has been working but before I can argue our case, I need solid evidence to defend us.” There was no room for ifs and buts here. It was, quite simply, something that had to be done. 

“What?” Prompto spat out, eyes round in protest when Ignis shared this development with him, just as he was about to leave for classes that afternoon. He would be back by 6 in the evening to finish the rest of his workday. “But…then that means…”

“Iʼll take you as far as Sector 5,” Ignis supplied, pulling his glasses to clean it a little on his tie. They were waiting for the lift to come up. Before that, he had insisted to join Prompto on going down as he said he wanted some coffee in the corner cafe. He would probably get one now because of that but that had been an excuse to see him off in the first place. “You should be able to get a Chocobo from there, then Gladio can take you the rest of the way.” He was friendly enough with the coachmen that he should be able to ask them to look out for Prompto, too. 

“Then going back?”

“Iʼll meet you at the stage door,” Ignis assured him, putting his glasses back on. “Then weʼll go up to the surface together.”

“So then, youʼll still get to meet Gladio, right?” What—

Ignis laughed suddenly, running his palm down his tie as opposed to pulling at his collar when he suddenly felt warm in his ears. “I, I suppose, yes. Indeed.” Why would Prompto ask that all of a sudden when he hadnʼt been curious enough the past few days? “Well, hereʼs the lift! Letʼs go, youʼll be late.”

—

Prompto insisted for Ignis to take his car going back to the office but Ignis had decided against it, saying that he wasnʼt comfortable driving a friendʼs car when that friend wasnʼt around in the first place. For the most part, that made…sense.

But also, Ignis had planned to look for something for Gladio on his way to the train station, and a car wouldnʼt give him that excuse. 

He lingered in the platform long enough to see Prompto off in the Chocobo carriage, following a series of reminders that Prompto promised to memorize before he hopped on. Ignis went back up to the surface, then, keeping an eye on his phone so that he didnʼt miss any message from his friend. 

By the time he had exited the station in upper Sector 8, Prompto had sent him a picture of him and Gladio and the Chocobo he hired with a note that read, _arrived safely!!!_ Gladio was dressed in his hoodie and a dark blue cap, his scars exposed. 

_Good to know_ , Ignis replied as he started for the office, using a shortcut that would take him around the back of the business district. _Tell Gladio I said hi, please._

_you won't tell him yourself?_ Ignis could practically hear Promptoʼs voice in that message. 

Ignis smiled. _You're already there, Prompto._ Though maybe he _could_ send Gladio a message, anyway, and thank him for looking after his friend. 

That would be a good reason to contact him. Ignis felt smart. He had just navigated to their private chat when an angry scream ripped through the quiet evening, followed by what sounded like a crack. 

Ignis tensed where he stood, whipping to the dark, narrow alley heʼd just passed. That was the sound of a fight if he knew one. He gripped his phone harder, then, and started to march away, urgently before anyone saw him. This wasnʼt his fight, there was no reason for him to stick his nose in—

At the second crack and wail, Ignis whirled back and darted straight for the alley. His mind was racing the mad beating of his heart. This was the exact opposite of what he should be doing but how could anyone expect him to turn a deaf ear when he was already _there_ —in a personʼs moment of life or death?! That wasnʼt how his uncle raised him, and he didnʼt want to live his life knowing he could have saved someone but didnʼt! 

Down the alley, there was another one angling right, straight into a wider, brighter street. But there was a chain fence in-between both pathways. 

And it was here that the sobbing victim was cornered while two shadows pummeled him, one of them carrying something that looked suspiciously like a wooden training sword. If push came to shove, Ignis was confident that he could beat these two into a pulp. 

But only fools rushed into danger when they could avoid it—or so he still liked to say. “Hello, public security?” he shouted to the phone on his ear, keeping a safe distance between himself and the scuffle. Wide eyes whipped back to him in that same instance he began to speak. These werenʼt cold-blooded fellows, Ignis realized. “Yes, Iʼm witnessing an assault here at the corner of Loveless Street, near the Theater Exit of the train station.”

“Go!” the wooden sword barked to his companion. “Weʼre done here, letʼs go!” 

“Two men against one victim…” Now that the wooden sword had scaled the fence, Ignis started marching for the crumpled man on the ground. The last attacker grabbed him by his collar and pressed him up to the brick wall. Ignisʼ left hand twitched to his belt until he remembered that heʼd kept his daggers in his bag. 

“If we catch you loitering around here again, weʼll send you back to that bastard Morie with your eyes up your ass!” the assailant growled. He spat on the bloody face as his last insult. 

And then he was up and off the fence, escaping through the left side of the street. 

Ignis hurried to the sobbing victimʼs side, touching him on his shoulder. “Can you stand?” he asked. The poor man wore a familiar apron over his uniform, though his white shirt was stained dark all over. “Come, we need to bring you to a hospital.” 

“B, bu…” He started to protest, moving his hands in some confused way of fighting his savior off and protecting himself from said savior. “But the police…”

“I didnʼt call them, of course,” Ignis told him. “I just needed to get those bullies away from you. Now come on,” he offered his left hand, “letʼs get out of here.”

The man nodded despite his tears, though it took him another momentʼs pause, perhaps wondering if he really was a friend, before he grasped Ignis with his right hand. He wore a cast around his wrist, the rest of it hidden by his once-white sleeve, just like the first time. Ignis turned, then, to the logo of the coffee shop he knew he would find on the right breast of his apron. He couldnʼt believe it. 

This was the same injured man from the train from weeks ago.

—

A black eye, busted lips, fractured fingers and several contusions and abrasions along his left side. A CT scan was also recommended in case there was any internal bleeding caused by the trauma.

That was what the doctor said. Without any input of his own, Ignis could only bow and thank him for his time. 

When he left, Ignis wandered back from the reception near the doors to the patientʼs bedside at the far end of the ward. He reported the same diagnosis to him as he sat down on the only seat provided. 

The patient, who lied down on his pillow and faced the other way, only nodded. 

“I also called the coffee shop,” Ignis went on, folding his arms. “A woman named Tina will be coming over to look after you.”

“Heh,” he smirked suddenly. “Tina, huh?” Finally, he turned his head towards Ignis, though he didnʼt quite look at him. “Well, you should go, then. Iʼll be fine on my own.”

“Iʼm afraid thatʼs exactly why I canʼt just leave you,” Ignis sighed. “If, for some reason, you wind up dead with no witnesses, the primary suspect will become me.” He adjusted his glasses. “Iʼm already busy enough as it is, I wonʼt have time to deal with a warrant for my arrest.”

“You’re cold,” the patient chuckled. “But despite that, youʼve already saved my life twice.”

“Once,” Ignis corrected him curtly. 

He laughed again. “Fine. Once.” Ignis never would have guessed this…seemingly meek character would have this kind of attitude. 

The sound of several footfalls wiped the amusement clean off his face, though, and he resembled the beaten up mouse from the train and the alley again. When Ignis turned, a pair of strangers arrived, a man and a younger woman. Both of them flashed their badges. 

Detectives. Of course. Since the cause or his injuries was obviously a street fight, the hospital had to call the authorities in. 

Ignis and the younger woman stepped out of the booth so he could give his own statement while the man began to interview the patient. “This wonʼt take long,” he assured him. Ignis listened while the female detective was noting down his story. “Can you tell us your name?”

“Claymore,” the patient said after a moment. 

“And your last name?”

This one took longer. “…Aquila.”

“All right, anything else you wish to add, Mr. Scientia?” the female detective asked him. 

Ignis snapped to her and shook his head. “Thatʼs all I remember.”

“Okay, then.” She added a few more notes to her tickler pad, then flipped it shut as she smiled at him. “Thanks very much for your time.” Finally. 

He thanked her as well, bowed with her, then marched down the long path to exit the ward. Along the way, a frantic woman wearing the coffee shopʼs uniform passed him, accompanied by Claymoreʼs doctor who smiled and bowed in greeting. 

_Dr. Joe Aquila_ read the ID hooked to his white coatʼs breast pocket. 

What were the chances that two strangers who shared the same name would meet? Ignisʼ brows furrowed in thought as he stepped out of the facility. Claymore Aquila… 

He doubted that was his real name.

—

By the time Ignis had made it back to Shinra Building, it was already almost 9 in the evening.

Ignis couldnʼt believe it. It was already quite late and yet, he still had work to do. On top of that, Prompto expected him to be in Wall Market by 11 oʼ clock. 

_I can do this,_ Ignis thought, catching the lift just as it was about to close its doors. _For the sake of seeing Gladio tonight, Iʼll do this._

He punched the button to his floor, turned to the other person in the lift and offered him a shallow bow. It was that new face from several days back, the one with a Shinra pin on his lapel. This time, he wore it on his heavy brown coat, too warm for the night, but that wasnʼt the worst part of his outfit. His tight black shirt with its skull print was too short to be tucked in, showing a bit of skin, and his pair of wine red fake leather pants was too snug around his hips. Everything about his choice of clothes was wrong, and he was only supposed to be a new hire. Preposterous. 

Then again, he thought as he saw his destination on the panel of buttons, the directress of the weapons division wore her dress quite low, as well. So this kid either came from a really wealthy family who didnʼt care about his job, or this was just the way they worked in the weapons division. 

Kid…as if this fresh face wasnʼt Prompto and Noctʼs age, but perhaps it was his arrogant facade that invited such prejudice. What was he doing in the office at this hour, though? Shouldnʼt he be out there enjoying the night with his friends? 

The urban planning office was still abuzz with activity by the time heʼd returned. After a few pleasantries with his colleagues who thought heʼd gone home for the day, he sat down on his table, popped the bones of his neck and got to work.

—

The good news was that he was making steady progress with his list of projects to review. Earlier that day, heʼd already sorted them out in terms of priority and he had always been organized with his receipts and letters which made the dirty work of collating their funds that much easier.

The bad news was that…there was just too many to do. Add to that, his colleagues interrupting him to ask for his help, if he remembered Mr. This and Ms. That, or Project XYZ… 

At 10:30, Ignis still wasnʼt done. Though a large part of his work had finally been submitted, he knew he wouldnʼt make it to the _Honeybee Inn_ by 11. 

Now, 11:30, though, still held some promise… 

He texted Prompto that much and received a thumb up and an _OK!_ for it. Stuffed his phone back in his pocket and switched on the giant central printer of the office—

It made a little growling noise, like it was raring to go and then fell silent, reminiscent to a car that failed to start. After that, its screen lit on and displayed a cute cartoon of the printer with two Xes for its eyes and its tongue out. _Code ERR-89YT0P_ was the only thing that was displayed. 

“Itʼs overheated,” one of his officemates explained helpfully while she looked at him with her head on her table. “You wanna line up to use it tomorrow?” _Tomorrow?_

He didnʼt have time for this! He just needed to photocopy these documents and then all he had left to do was to sort those estimates in a spreadsheet, email it and then he could see Gladio! Besides, if there was already a line for it… 

“No matter,” Ignis refused with a sigh, gathering the paper stuff heʼd meant to copy. He noted the logo of the Advanced Weaponry Division on the topmost form—it was a request for the full inventory of the defense system of the No. 1 Reactor prior to the terrorist attack. 

He waved his files to the woman. “Iʼll just go elsewhere. Perhaps you should think about heading home for the night.”

The woman giggled at that. “This is my home now.” Well, that was the general mood. 

He went up to the weapons division floor, checking the time on his phone as he stepped out. This place was always so dark, he thought. 

With his files tucked between his arm and his side, Ignis marched smartly down the empty corridor and made a beeline towards the printer, passing by the withered shells of overworked employees who only followed his swift progress with their veiny eyes. Here, at least, the machine gave a smooth groan when it lit up, and with a whistle of relief, Ignis could get on with his work. 

It didnʼt take him much longer than five minutes to feed the last paper in. While it churned out the copies he needed, he took a quick detour to the end of the long room where he could file his request in one of the number of trays laid out at the counter. This part, too, was dark, since empty tables had no need for lights. 

Or so he thought; at the corner, not ten paces from where Ignis stood, was a meeting room that was half-bright, as if someone had switched on the lights at only one side of the room. 

Ignis should have known what was going on when he stepped towards the slightly open door, thinking to turn off the lights. Four years of working long nights for the company had shown him the colorful ways in which his colleagues de-stressed. It was one thing to walk in on two faces you didnʼt know, though. 

It was another to hear a familiar voice crooning deep within the room, with someone who sounded younger…much younger than him. Someone who called him ‘masterʼ. 

“Very good,” that familiar voice noted with approval, as suave as it had always been as if the man was only complaining about the broken vendo machine on his floor. “Very good, boy. Youʼre taking well to your training.”

This boy let out a whimper. From where Ignis stood he caught something shift in the room and recognized it to be a foot on the table. Naked. 

This boy was naked; Ignis could make out the flesh of his leg and it was tensing because of whatever was being done to him. Next to it, he saw his clothes strewn over the executive seat—red leather, a dark shirt, a brown coat. 

That new face Ignis caught in the lift. The one who was just about Promptoʼs age. _Prompto!_

Ignis had to put a hand on his mouth before his shock gave him away. That skin contact in the cafeteria when the coffee spilled…the whole episode, there was no part of it that had been an accident at all! 

He was backing off, but it was difficult to reconcile his mind with the rest of his body. He wanted to _run_ but he was too stunned to _move_. 

“However,” Ferro sighed, “my associate tells me that youʼve been a very, very bad boy in the brothel. Very, very naughty and dirty.” Those toes curled tightly, suddenly. “What is it that you did? Hm? Hm? You…?” He was trying to coax the answer out of his misbehaving subject. “You what now?”

The young man on the table uttered something Ignis couldnʼt catch. 

“You _came_ without my permission! Thatʼs right. And you know the punishment for bad sluts like you?” The sound of a buckle rang mildly in the quiet, and then the pull of the zipper. Ignis knew all too well what that was. “Say it louder, you dumb whore,” the voice growled.

“M, master,” the young man hissed, “I…Iʼve been a naughty slut. Please…p, please teach me a lesson. Fuck my dirty mouth with your big dick.”

“Now that wasnʼt so hard, was it?” The young manʼs knee bucked up. “What I donʼt understand is why you never, _never_ seem to learn what I teach you! When I tell you not to come, no matter how many of my associates fuck that girly ass of yours, you _donʼt. Come._ Understand?” Ferro snapped. “Or do you want me to put your favorite toy inside you again?” 

The young man let out a high-pitched noise, his foot jumping a little. 

“Oh my…is this what I think it is?” His voice had gone soft again, as if he was only reciting a well-rehearsed story in the theater. “Donʼt tell me…youʼve been walking all over Midgar with a rubber dick up your ass?” A dildo. The young man had been forced to go out in public with a dildo inside him. “My, my…you know, the reason why you sluts lost the war to the might of Shinra is because you will never be good enough to be _real_ soldiers. All you Wutai shits are ever good for are your fuck holes.” 

The young man made a choking sound. He couldnʼt take this—Ignis couldnʼt take it anymore. 

“Let’s switch it on, shall we?”

The worst part was that he knew what _it_ was that was switched on. Knew how it felt like inside him, had played with it countless times himself. 

He grabbed the papers from the printer, switched it off and ran out of the office. 

Straight to the lift where he caught sight of the cursed vendo machine at the corner—bright and alive, full of stocks. 

How long had Ferro been observing Prompto? All those times he was lying about the vendo machine just to corner his friend who loved to buy from it… 

The elevator doors split open. He jumped in.

—

For a handful of minutes, Ignis couldnʼt remember what he was meant to do. He had a blank spreadsheet out, a complicated equation in the formula bar, but not much else. His fingers were ready to work but his mind…

He still heard that leering voice, saw that naked foot. Promptoʼs rigid form in the cafeteria, his wide eyes, his nervous laughter. 

Ridiculous…did Ferro want Prompto that way, as well? Disgusting! How could he… 

He would never…Ignis would never allow it!

He picked up his phone, urged to message Noct and Prompto in their group chat just to check in on them but a view of the time had caused him to stop: it was 11:02 in the evening. 

Ignis hissed out a curse. Heʼd wasted so much time and now he only had less than half an hour to go before he was expected at the _Honeybee Inn_. And without any progress on the last part of his deadline for the day… 

He couldnʼt make it. Ignis should just accept it as early as now, he couldnʼt make it all along. Between the hospital and work and what he heard…saw… 

His elbows landed heavily on his desk so he could hide his face behind his hands and just…spend a few more minutes just…tasting his disappointment. Letting the bitterness roll over his tongue like ice before he swallowed it, and let it sit in his empty stomach. Ignis squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lips hard. He hated this. Heʼd been looking forward to surprising Gladio and spending some time with him…and after everything that happened, he could really use him now. His warm eyes, his comforting smile, the touch of his skin on his. 

Nothing. All this hard work with nothing to show for it. And how fair was that? He wanted nothing of what he saw, what he heard…of what happened to him! 

Ignis bit back a snarl as he snatched his phone up and tapped Promptoʼs name on his contact list. He may have lost the race but he could at least save some face by withdrawing before he was declared defeated. And for him, that meant admitting his failure at the appointed time. 

“ _Ignis!! Are you here yet?!_ ” Except, of course, Promptoʼs excited voice was making it hard for him to accept the truth. 

“Prompto,” Ignis began. “I umm…” 

With a deep frown, he bowed his head and kneaded his eyes behind his glasses. “Iʼm terribly sorry…but Iʼm afraid it has been quite an eventful night and…well, Iʼm still in the office.”

“ _Huh?! Seriously?!_ ”

“Unfortunately so.” He nodded. “This being the case, Iʼm afraid…I, umm…” Ignis flicked his tongue over his lips. “Iʼm afraid…Iʼm very sorry, Prompto, but I wonʼt be able to join you tonight.”

“ _O, oh…I see…umm…_ ” There was a long pause… “ _Ah, hold on a second._ ” Followed by a second of silence, then—

“ _Ignis?_ ”

Ignis thought that if he could just hear Gladioʼs voice, then everything would be brighter and better for him—but as it turned out, it was worse. Much worse. Gladio felt so close and so far from him and the injustice of it all made Ignisʼ lungs burn, hot enough to choke him. 

“Gladio,” he sighed, nursing a heartburn. He closed his eyes, tried to keep his disappointment under control. “Forgive me, I missed tonight. I wanted to surprise you by visiting unannounced but my plans went completely awry.”

“ _Hey, thatʼs fine,_ ” Gladio chuckled. “ _Look, it isnʼt like you wanted this to happen, right?_ ” Ignis shook his head. “ _Cʼmon, donʼt sweat it._ ”

“I really wanted to see you tonight, though.” It was difficult for Ignis not to mumble like a child who couldnʼt come to his friendʼs party or something. “You have no idea how much Iʼd been thinking about seeing you throughout the day…”

“ _Aw, I miss you, too,_ ” Gladio said. “ _You hungry? What time are you getting home?_ ”

“I wish I knew but…” Ignis rubbed a sore patch on his shoulder. “But Iʼm not quite done in the office yet.” Another heavy sigh. “Though I suppose I will definitely try to be home before the last train…so some time before 2 in the morning should be safe.”

“ _Hey, Ignis…I know tonight didnʼt turn out the way we wanted but it ainʼt so bad. Letʼs just pick another night, yeah? Letʼs go on a date._ ”

“But then it wonʼt be a surprise anymore,” Ignis pointed out, carrying his forehead on his palm and fingers. “Not in the way tonight would have been.”

“ _Iʼll think of something. And you always surprise me with yourself, anyway._ ”

Ignis snorted, a smile pushing up his cheek despite his depressed mood and weary strength. “Thank you…that made me smile.”

“ _Happy to help,_ ” Gladio said. “ _Donʼt feel too bad, Ignis. Weʼll see each other soon, okay?_ ”

“Okay,” he uttered, trying to flatten the sulk on his face. It wasnʼt like he had much choice about his bad luck, after all, and a sad face would only invite curious questions he much rather not have time for. “By the way, Gladio…could I trouble you to look after Prompto tonight? Just until he makes it up to the surface. Please. We parked at the Sector 5 station.”

“ _Hey, yeah, sure thing. Donʼt worry about it, Iʼll take care of him._ ”

“Thank you, Gladio,” Ignis breathed in relief. “I really appreciate you stepping up like this.” As if he had much of a choice in the matter. “…well, I…suppose Prompto will want to talk to me now.”

He did—he wanted to know what had kept Ignis tied up this whole time, but of course, he couldnʼt tell him the whole truth. It was bad enough that he got involved with a bloodied man, it was worse that he found out about Ferroʼs…dark hobby, and one that proved to be equally dangerous. 

“Itʼs just work,” was all Ignis could share, but he decided to cite various obstacles like the printer and the missing paper trail for several old projects to add a bit more weight to his claim. Prompto didnʼt seem to be upset for long, having regained a bit of his own excitement before they started to say goodbye. 

“ _Sooo, see you tomorrow, I guess! My adviser canceled tomorrowʼs meeting so I can come in early again—_ ” Early? Wait—

“Prompto,” Ignis straightened up, suddenly awake, “before you come in the office, could you give me a call first? Or even a message. Thereʼs umm…” What should he say, what should he say… 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thereʼs been an incident where an unauthorized personnel was caught entering our offices without permission.” The bucking leg flashed in his mind again, the strip of skin between shirt and jeans. It only then occurred to Ignis that the young man hadnʼt been an employee, after all. If he really was from Wutai, he might have been a refugee forced into the life of a prostitute. 

“I simply think it might be best if we come in together so that we can avoid questions regarding your business in the office,” Ignis went on. “B, but perhaps you can come in with Noct, as well. Two interns walking in wonʼt be as suspicious as one moving on his own. Iʼm sure the security will understand that much.” Visitors werenʼt allowed in the offices…so the fact that the young man had a one-way ticket to the weapons division…meant that he was given a key card despite being unemployed by the company. Which meant that this had been going on longer than any of them knew. Ignis wouldnʼt have known if Ferro hadnʼt gotten himself involved with Prompto. 

“ _Mmm, okay, then. Sooo, Iʼll check in tomorrow!_ ”

“Yes, correct,” Ignis agreed. 

They said goodbye, then, and hung up. Ignis fell back in his seat, peeling his glasses from his face to rub his hands on it. 

Then he put them back on his laptop and returned to his elusive formula in the spreadsheet. With no suitor to catch, and no friend to see off now, he could at least work in peace. For whatever it was worth.

—

A quarter to an hour later, and Ignis could finally go home.

He was one of the last to turn in his work, but not quite _the_ last, with a handful of his colleagues still hanging around like ghosts to their desks. He waved goodbye to them but all the life they held had fled and they couldnʼt find the energy to reply in kind. 

When the lift came, it was empty, and Ignis found himself wondering how the young man was going to get home. If he _was_ going to get home at all—

_Stop that!_ Ignis hissed at himself, frowning deeply, massaging his forehead. _Of course, heʼs going home tonight. Of course, he wonʼt be…_

_Think of something else. Think of something else quick!_

Gladioʼs coffee eyes, his handsome profile, the way he moves his hips. His rippling arms, the touch of his thumb to his cheek, the shy way he scratches his head, his brilliant smile. Sexy, charismatic, beautiful Gladio. 

He wanted to see him tonight. Ignis really wanted to see how he would have reacted if he saw him standing next to Prompto, maybe with a bag of beer in hand. The man loved his beer and it was a safe gift between two men getting in a relationship. 

The sting of disappointment scratched at Ignis again. Gladio would have been a better ending to his horrible night. He might even give him something pleasant to dream about. 

The last trains were loaded with harassed commuters hurrying to get home before the stations closed up for the day. It was easy to stay alert on his feet with so many people pressed up to him, trying and failing to keep their eyes open. But as the train emptied out sector by sector, so did Ignisʼ resolve. 

He was pretty sure he blacked out on the couch until someone who smelled drunk had stumbled and collided her face to the wall next to the door. Ignis inspected himself briefly—his phone, his pockets, the contents of his bag—before he hauled himself up to his feet and prepared to exit. Sector 7 was coming up… 

He was the last to get off the car, sighing out in relief as soon as his feet met the platform. It was empty, as always. The first few times he came home like this, Ignis remembered how it made him feel lonely. Had even pushed himself to work beyond everyone in the office just so he could have a reason to be so damn tired, he wouldnʼt have the energy to think about how lonely he felt. Just how tired he was. Years later, he finally came to terms with his place in the world and accepted everything as a fact of life. 

He understood, too, that this wasnʼt a special melancholy reserved only to him, not when the city was full of people above and below. They all lived different lives and carried different problems. For their struggles, they, too, should have the right to be afflicted with the same kind of hollowness inside. 

Down the last bench leading into the town proper of the Sector 7 slums, there was a man who sat in prayer, with his forehead heavy on his clasped fist. He wore a dark hoodie and a blue cap, and beside him was a bouquet of yellow flowers, the kind that looked like stars if they had six points. The poor man looked dejected. He must have been stood up… 

And then Ignis realized, with icy dread, that it was him. _He_ was the cold-hearted bastard who stood this man up. 

Somehow, Gladio must have heard his thinking because he stirred awake, drowsy eyes catching sight of him one heartbeat and then the next, he was surging up to his impressive height in full awareness. Ignis couldnʼt believe it—his thick brows, his sharp nose, his scars, they were all there. In all the proper places. 

“Gladio?” he uttered, voice small. Despite the weight of his bones and his worn muscles, Ignis doubted he had overworked himself to the point of hallucination but it seemed too good to be true that the man he had been pining for was there, right where he wanted to see him. 

But it was Gladio—in the flesh, without a shred of doubt. When he pulled off his cap, as if he suddenly remembered that Ignis preferred the wildness of his hair, he could almost feel the thickness of his locks in his fingers just by looking at them. And when he said, “Hey,” the depth of his voice was enough to beckon Ignis closer. As it always had. 

“W, w,” Ignis stuttered, eyes moving up and down his form. “W, what are you doing here?” he laughed softly, finally looking up to those handsome gems gazing down on him. Itʼs him. It really was him. “Itʼs late. You must be tired.”

“Yeah, but a certain someone wanted to see me.” Gladio put on a little of that maddening smirk as he shrugged. “And I wanted to see him, too.” 

“Gladio…”

“And I brought you flowers.” Gladio snatched up the bouquet from the bench and handed it to Ignis who accepted it without question. He still felt like he was dreaming. “Theyʼre hardy stuff. Low maintenance. The flower girl in Sector 5 said you just need to put ‘em in a vase full of water and theyʼll live.”

“You even got me flowers,” Ignis observed with a laugh, pawing delicately over the full blossoms. Twelve of them all-in-all. “Gladio, what would I do with flowers?” They were such silly gifts. 

“Dunno,” Gladio shrugged, “just look at ‘em, I guess. Cʼmon, I havenʼt done this in a while and I really wanted to get someone I like flowers again. And I wanted you to be the first.”

“Well, it isnʼt like I could put them back in the ground, anymore…” Ignis mused, still looking at them. This has never happened to him before. “I mean, theyʼre already here…”

“Uh, yeah,” Gladio cackled suddenly. He tossed his hand to the flowers. “Yeah, theyʼve already been picked.”

Ignis sighed out loud, smiling dreamily at his suitor who looked at him with the same expression. He wanted to surprise him but here he was, surprising _him_ instead, with flowers even. Being the perfect ending to an otherwise bad day, after all those thoughts he spent wishing and asking for him… 

There was nothing on the Planet that would have stopped him from falling onto that hard chest so he could wrap his arms around his strong back and put his cheek on his shoulder. Gladio sealed him in his own embrace, pulling him closer until he could feel his heat and catch little traces of his musk fragrance. He liked it. It made him feel… 

Safe…Ignis was safe here. Like the first time, when Gladio hugged him to protect him in the arena. 

He couldnʼt believe he was real. That he was really, truly, physically here for him. Ignis hummed out in bliss. “You’re so warm…”

“Yeah?” His voice thrummed pleasantly inside him. 

“And strong,” Ignis half-moaned, squeezing him tighter. He wanted to keep him and be kept. He never wanted to let go. 

“The better to hug you with, eh?” Gladio chuckled. “Cʼmon, letʼs get you home. You look real tired.” He was. He was so tired, and so happy that Gladio was here for him. 

At a different occasion, Ignis thought he might have surely felt embarrassed being seen with someone as handsome as Gladio on his way home. He even carried flowers in his hand so there was no way anyone could still doubt the kind of relationship he shared with the man. 

But he wouldnʼt trade anything for the joy of being with him after a long day in the office, and after everything that happened in-between. “You are quite literally the best and only good thing that happened to me today,” Ignis shared with a drowsy smile to the dirt, tightening his hand around Gladioʼs bigger one. 

“Glad I came, then,” his suitor replied, watching him from over his shoulder. “Actually, Prompto told me about you wanting to come.”

“He did?” Ignis turned to him. Somehow, he never considered that their friend could actually do that. Probably because he never nagged him about them again after he proved himself to be unforthcoming. Oh, but in the elevator, before he went off to classes… 

Gladio nodded. “But I guess he didnʼt know that you wanted to surprise me. So I didnʼt and I decided that I wanted to surprise you.” He snickered in his breath. “So I bought the flowers. Think thatʼs why Prompto got a little sad when he thought weʼd miss each other.”

“How is he?” 

“Good,” Gladio answered. Ignis nodded and laid his head on the bone of his shoulder. Their fingers tightened still. He felt so warm beside him, his presence so comforting. “Iʼm guessing he liked the show. It was all he could talk about when Cindy and I sent him up,” he chuckled. “Didnʼt get you an invite ‘cause I wasnʼt on the show tonight, by the way.”

“Iʼm glad,” Ignis mumbled, just before he let out a long yawn. “Otherwise, I would have been the most miserable person on the Planet. If I missed your dancing because of work…”

“You always this tired everyday?” A gentle hand patted him on his hair. 

Ignis smiled, a thrill racing up to his shoulders, and shook his head. “Tonight was…particularly special.” He focused on Gladioʼs touch and scent before he went down the rabbit hole of his shock again. “It was my starsʼ turn to misalign, I suppose.” And what a disarray they put themselves in to ruin his day. Almost. 

Almost—Gladio was with him now. His anchor to a world that threatened to spin out of control. 

“Hate it when that happens,” Gladio chuckled, tugging lightly on their hands. “Well, hang on just a little longer. That yours?”

Ignis looked up from his feet to see his apartment. Somehow, he managed to make it this far. Unbelievable. How did that happen? 

He heaved out a great breath of relief and nodded. “Yes. That would be where I live.” He smiled to his suitor. “Thank you for taking me all this way. You really saved my day, Gladio.”

“I feel like I did something good today ‘cause of that, too.” A shining smile split his face open, soothing Ignis like honey. His knees felt weak. “You sure you can make it from here?”

“Are you trying to get in my bed with me?”

“Oh, cʼmon, Iʼm not like that,” Gladio snorted. “Let me walk you to your door. I just wanna make sure you actually sleep inside, yʼknow?”

“Iʼm not yet so helpless, Gladio.” Ignis clicked his tongue, smiling wanly. “My apartment is upstairs, in the middle. You donʼt have to come up with me.” He couldnʼt ask too much of this man all at once. Even when…even though he wanted to… 

“Yeah, all right,” Gladio conceded, eying him under his thick brows. “I wonʼt.”

He did as he was told and waited by the foot of the stairwell where he watched Ignis negotiate the door knob with his key. When Ignis had gotten it open, he turned around and waved goodnight to his suitor who beamed and waved back to him. He looked so happy and carefree… 

Ignis wished he could spend some more time with him, until he would see no one but him in his sleep. Maybe he should just invite him in? After all, wouldnʼt it be too late for the last train? 

“Get inside before you get sick, Ignis,” Gladio warned him, crossing his arms . “You’re tired. Youʼre already pushing yourself.” Look at this sweet man, his thoughtful suitor who cared about him. 

One day, Ignis promised himself. He was determined to lead him up to his room, and show him just how much he truly appreciated his big, warm heart. And his thick, long…arms. But Gladio was right—there would be time for that. And if it ever came to be, he would want to be as lucid as possible to enjoy it all. For now, he would keep those ideas to himself, to keep him company at night in the absence of the man himself. 

Ignis truly felt so blessed he got to see him again, in spite of it all. He was in love, so in love… 

“Goodnight, Gladio,” he said to him, heart in his ears. Then with a final wave, he stepped inside and pulled the door shut with him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added _choking_ to the tags just in case!

Gladio ends up spending the night with him. 

He is warm and _huge_ , exactly as how Ignis expects him. Like a human blanket that wraps him like a cocoon. He is a heavy petter, as well, and his mouth tastes like coffee, or beer…Ignis canʼt decide. 

Whatever it is, he likes it. He grasps at Gladioʼs muscles until his hands are full of him. Itʼs never enough but he makes do; this is what he has been craving for all day, all night. 

He doesnʼt remember how long they have been doing this, how he got home. Ignis feels like forever has passed but he doesnʼt want this to end yet. Even though the tower of papers is rising and multiplying every time he opens his eyes. He has a deadline tomorrow at 11 but Gladio doesnʼt let him go and so he stays. 

What about Prompto? Gladio has to bring him home. 

His heart is jumping when he pushes Gladio off and races down Sector 8ʼs business district, pushing past colorful hawkers and the neon lights of Wall Market. He bursts into the nightclub and Gladio is there onstage, dancing on his own. 

“Where's Prompto?” he asks him. 

They are racing down the endless market until Ignis remembers the way to the Shinra Building and floats his way up there, hand-in-hand with Gladio. The place is dark when they soar higher through the elevator shaft and land in an empty office. Thereʼs a light at the end of the path. 

Ignis knows they are too late but he runs anyway. Noct is absent so he must go to Prompto himself. The meeting room finally reveals itself and Prompto is there in his seat—stripped naked, hands bound, cock in his mouth—

Ignis gasped like a man drowning in his own sweat. The room was strange and quiet, too dark and silent for his comfort. When he tried to work his voice, the most he could make out was a grunt as his eyes darted to every corner he could find. His writing desk was there across him, carrying a tall tin can of chocolate wafers with a dozen of star-shaped blossoms sprouting off its open top. 

“Gladio,” he whispered—just in case the man really was there, hiding in the corner for some reason. “Gladio?” No response. Ignis heard nothing in his room, not even the scritch of a rat or the buzz of an insect. 

With desperate hands, he clawed for the phone under his pillow and unlocked it. Prompto and Noct were quiet in Shinra Talk but the former had posted on Lifestrm at 2am: a picture of him and Cindy at the front of the nightclub, paired by a caption that was full of capital letters, exclamation marks and sparkling emojis. His usual stuff. He wouldnʼt be posting all that if he was somewhere unsafe, would he? 

_A nightmare,_ he told himself, breathing out and squeezing his eyes shut. _Thatʼs all it is—a nightmare._ It must have been the fatigue, he thought, mingling with the shock. 

A look at the time told him it wasnʼt even yet dawn. Counting from the time Gladio left, heʼd only been asleep for a little over 2 hours. He still had time before first light… 

Ignis tucked his phone back under his pillow, drew his blanket up to his chin and squeezed his eyes shut. He would face another long day tomorrow so he had better get some more hours of sleep while still he could. _Donʼt think about the nightmare,_ he told himself. _Think of Gladio instead. Imagine your first night together. Think of those arms, those lips…_

He tried; in his head, Ignis put them both in bed, Gladio at the back, spooning him. His heavy arms would be around him and his lips would be peppering his back with a flutter of kisses. Over his belly, their fingers would be entwined. And their legs, too. Their legs would be entwined, too. 

And he would be safe. With those predators and nightmares kept at bay, his dreams would be filled with nothing but Gladioʼs skin and scent on him…

—

That nightmare never came back for him, like a stalker prevented by the presence of a protector.

But then again, neither was he visited by dreams…or sleep at all. 

By the time Ignis woke up, the sun lamp was already blazing. He couldnʼt remember how he fell asleep but he remembered thereʼd been a lot of tossing and turning that nearly pushed him to bring out the lube so he could tire himself by masturbating. The sweat clung to his skin so he took a hot shower, thinking it made him too uncomfortable to properly relax. 

Whatever it was he did and didnʼt do, the result was a pounding headache that never went away no matter how long he laid on his pillow. His stomach twisted desperately in its emptiness but with his limbs weighing a ton, he couldnʼt get himself to the kitchen to whip up something quick. 

Unbelievable. What the hell was this all of a sudden? A flu? A fever? 

Ignis brought his hand to his forehead to test his temperature, then felt for his pulse on his wrist. His nose felt clear, though, and his eyes didnʼt feel like they were going to roll out of his skull… 

So a fever without the cold. Looks like heʼd overdone it this time. 

How sad that this was the only trophy he could brandish for all his hard work. A look at the time told him that the trains would be full by now. And without so much as a drop of coffee, he couldnʼt begin to imagine how he might survive the press of bodies, assuming he had the strength to leave the room in the first place. At this rate, he wouldnʼt be able to make it in time…or to the office at all. 

Ignis groaned, rubbing his eyes. There goes all his best-laid plans. Since he started working for the company, he had been the proud holder of a perfect attendance despite the various aches and illnesses and temptations that arrested his flawed, human body. That distinction had earned him some cash rewards at the end-of-the-year parties which served him well in his emergency funds. 

This would be the first year he would sadly have to do without that incentive. The money was nice but Ignis didnʼt feel nice at all and with three more days in the workweek and a dayʼs work to catch up on, he was in no position to run himself rugged. 

Today, he would have to be wise enough to admit defeat. Ignis rolled over to his side to paw for his phone and compose an email to Ana, Reeveʼs assistant, upgrading his illness to a sudden flu just so they wouldnʼt find something else to say about his absence. After that note, he put in a list of the paperwork he left on Reeveʼs table, just to prove that heʼd beaten that cruel deadline before he decided to go on leave. 

Prompto was the next on his list. The younger man greeted him with a singing, “ _Good morning!_ ” that set his anxious heart as is. “ _Hey, Ignis, I just realized one thing. If weʼre going to the office together, I could totally pick you up at the station! Ah, but youʼre probably already there, arenʼt you?_ ”

“Mm…not today, Iʼm afraid,” Ignis mumbled. His voice felt wrong in his throat. “I must have overworked myself…so you neednʼt come in today…and I apologize but I must cancel tonight, as well.”

“ _Ignis,_ ” the cheer was gone from Promptoʼs voice, “ _are you sick? You donʼt sound normal at all…_ ”

“I simply need to rest,” Ignis groaned, carrying a hand to his face. “Iʼll be back in the office tomorrow. Iʼll send you a message when Iʼm on the train.”

“ _Okay, then._ ”

“How was yesterdayʼs show?”

Prompto sung out a long swooning note. “ _You should have been there!! Cindy was a part of the main act of one of the dance numbers!!_ ”

Ignis chuckled in his breath. “Iʼm glad you were there to see it.”

“ _And did you see my latest post on Lifestrm?!_ ”

“Indeed,” Ignis said. “Congratula—”

“ _Wahhhhh, I couldnʼt sleep all night!!!_ ” he squealed. “ _She even joined me in the Chocobo and saw me off in the train and she was looking at all of my pictures and she said they looked nice! I canʼt believe it!! Hey, Ignis, you totally have to come down to Wall Market soon._ ”

“And why is that?”

“ _Gladio wanted to see you! Like, he had flowers and all!! You should totally go and see him and then you gotta take me with you so I could see Cindy, too, riiight?_ ” Oh, so that was his point. 

“Very well,” Ignis sighed. He wouldnʼt tell him just yet that Gladio walked him home last night…though there was obviously no sense to hide this relationship from him now. “Let’s see what will happen come the weekend, hm?”

“ _YESSS, youʼre the best, Ignis!! Iʼll ask Noct, maybe he could come, too. And then we can all hang out together!_ ”

“That would be nice.” It really did sound nice. Ignis had never shared a table with more than two friends in a long while. “Let’s pencil that in.”

Prompto sung out triumphantly again. With this, Ignis thought, maybe he could go and try that sleeping thing again. Maybe this time, he wouldnʼt catch any unsightly visions in his delirium.

—

He woke up with another pounding headache.

Ignis was getting real tired with this. It probably didnʼt help that heʼd had nothing at all, not even a sip of water, but how was he going to get it if he didnʼt even have the shred of strength to roll out of his bed? Sleeping was supposed to help in that department but then came the headache. 

He shut his eyes, pulled his blanket up to his head. That was when he realized that the pounding hadnʼt been inside him at all. It was on the door. 

Ignis must have spent five minutes just getting one of his feet in one of his slippers and telling his visitor to wait. He couldnʼt think of anyone who might need him for anything at this cursed hour unless it was someone in the office who was desperate for him to come in. 

“Who is it?” he muttered between his teeth when he finally got to the door and could slide the locks free. He nearly stumbled out when he pulled it open. 

Gladio jumped at the sight of him. He was dressed in a plain black tank top that showcased his muscles and his feathers…oh those were feathers on his skin! His hair was down, teased just slightly just to give them a little style… 

And after all that observation, Ignis couldnʼt begin to surmise why the man would be on his doorstep that morning. Naked eyes squinted closely at his suitor. “Gladio?” came his stupid question. 

“Yeah,” Gladio answered with little nods. “I…Prompto said you werenʼt feeling well so I thought Iʼd drop by and check in on you—”

“Whatʼre you doing here?” Ignis mumbled. As if he hadnʼt been explaining how he came to materialize in his apartment which yes, Ignis understood it all. It was Prompto and Gladio was concerned but…really? This has never happened before. What made this fever episode special that he had to come all the way here? 

Gladioʼs wide palm touched him on his hairline, nudging his head back. “You have a low-grade fever. Letʼs get you in bed.”

“Gladio, wait—” Ignis shuffled backwards to raise his hands, trying to get him to stop, but that only brought the man through the door which he closed after him. Okay, that was smooth. “Gladio, thereʼs no reason for you to do this.”

“No reason?” Gladio pressed the back of his hand on his cheek and his neck. Ignis completely misunderstood his intention, turned it over and pressed his palm to his cheek. “Look at you, youʼre like a ghoul who lost his soul in the Train Graveyard! Yʼainʼt even thinkinʼ right.”

Ignis nodded, keeping that hand attached to his cheek. “Iʼve overdone myself and feel a little unwell for it. That is all. With a little rest, I should be back to normal tomorrow. Did you want to go out tomorrow?”

Gladio huffed through his nose, frowning mildly at his drowsy eyes. “I didnʼt come out here to ask you out, Ignis. I came out here ‘cause I felt worried and I care about you.”

Ignis hummed, smiling slightly. His suitor was so sweet. “Iʼm quite touched,” he assured him. He patted his large hand on his cheek. “Thank you for your concern, it does make me feel happy. Rest assured, though, that I will beat back this fever. This is nothing I havenʼt done before.”

“Doesnʼt mean I canʼt do it with you.”

“What?” Ignis squinted closely at his scars again. Did he hear him right? “Do what with me?” And here he thought he was just concerned—

Gladio retrieved his hand and poked him hard on his forehead. 

Ignis let out a yelp, stumbled back until he fell on his bed with his hands on his forehead. “Gladio, Iʼm sick!” he snapped. 

“Good you remember.” Gladio dragged his chair to his bedside so they could sit facing each other while he brought a plastic bag loaded with take-out containers on his thigh. The sight of it alone was enough to change Ignisʼ mood and revive his withered spirits. 

“Is that food?” Ignis almost felt like crying if he had any fluid in his shriveled body to spare…though his mouth did start to water. “I havenʼt had food since last dinner.”

“Then you shouldʼve called me,” Gladio sighed, bringing out a bottle of water. Upper plate stuff. He twisted the cap and handed it to him. “Whatʼs the use of trying to court you if you wonʼt even let me do this for you? I wanna show you I can be here for the bad times, too.”

Ignis spent the next few seconds gulping down the clean water Gladio had brought him. When he stopped to catch his breath, he felt inches better. “You were,” he confessed, smiling shyly at his suitor. “I have dreams of you. When I woke up from my nightmare, I thought about your arms around me, hoping to fall asleep with the image of it.” His gaze fell to the bottle in his hands. “Sometimes, I think Iʼve made the wrong decision to accept you in my life, and it scares me a little. Youʼre such a source of comfort that I worry I wonʼt remember how to live without being close to you.”

“Is that bad?”

“I havenʼt known you for a month, Gladio,” Ignis laughed a little hollowly despite his smile as he faced him. Those amber eyes, they carried so much softness in them. “I havenʼt seen you cry or get angry. Youʼve never seen me the same way, too. And yet I donʼt want to stop thinking about you, longing for you. Iʼm worried that itʼs wrong, that I am not thinking right and yet it makes my heart so full.”

“How longʼve you been living alone?” Gladio asked. He knew where he was coming from. 

“Since before I graduated high school,” Ignis revealed to him. “Before that, my uncle told me to live for myself and for others. He said I had to be strong enough to depend on myself and to help others, too. You?” He shifted a little closer. “I had a feeling…that you might not be living with someone either.”

Gladio smirked softly to him. “I donʼt remember anymore.” So it was a long time ago… 

“Ignis,” Gladio took a hand in his, “youʼre not the only one gambling yourself here. So am I. Iʼm scared about giving myself to you, too, and making the wrong decision for myself. But…I think youʼre worth the risk.” He offered a little smile. “Thatʼs why I wanna be here for you, when you can let me. And this,” Gladio raised the plastic bag, “thatʼs why I got you this. And the flowers, too.”

Ignis laughed softly in his breath. “You do realize this is exactly what scares me about you, donʼt you? No one has the right to be this kind to me.”

“Then lock me up ‘cause I ainʼt goinʼ anywhere,” Gladio snickered. 

Ignis put his bottle down to his feet, captured Gladio with both his hands and brought their lips together for a kiss. In his dreams, in his libidinous thoughts, heʼd always wondered what this part of this relationship could feel like. But as with many things about the man, it wasnʼt quite like anything he expected—warm and full, soft…Gladio was trembling when he sucked on his lips lightly and it took more than Ignis knew not to moan for it. 

He felt flushed when they parted. It must be the fever, he thought. But his lips felt dry and empty without Gladioʼs. It must be the hunger, he decided. 

Ignis seized the topmost bowl from Gladioʼs lap and carefully peeled it open. The soup was still hot, enough to singe him but that didnʼt stop him from slurping up a grateful mouthful of the salty broth. 

“Hey, thatʼs supposed to go with some noodles!” Gladio cracked that tray open, revealing slender cuts of meat, hard-boiled eggs, fish cakes and vegetables over a bed of chewy white noodles. “Donʼt finish it all just yet.”

“A warm bowl of soup is exactly what I need to settle my stomach,” Ignis sighed, half in bliss while Gladio carried some noodles to his bowl. This was his order during their first dinner together. 

He smiled at the man shyly, watched him pile more food into his soup until Gladio handed him the plastic fork he used. Ignis gave his breakfast…lunch? A stir. “I apologize for kissing you out of the blue. It is simply that you delighted me with your words.”

“You wonʼt hear me complaining,” Gladio chuckled. “I havenʼt been kissed that good in a while.”

“Anything will taste like a kingʼs feast to a hungry man.”

Gladio snorted, throwing his eyes for a roll. So he and Ignis had been single for the longest time, too. “Yeah, fine, whatever.” They shared a laugh. 

He finished the bowl in little time and had calmed down enough to better appreciate the tray of dumplings that came with it. 

“You feelinʼ better now?” Gladio asked him. 

Ignis nodded. The hollowness in his stomach had definitely been filled and the ache in his limbs was gone. He could look at Gladio without feeling the pressure of a mako pool over his brows, too. “Much better. Thank you—you saved me again.”

Gladio slapped him lightly on his biceps. “Iʼll save you any time you want. Just call.” He carried his water to him when Ignis reached down for it. “You said you had a nightmare?”

Ignis pulled the bottle from his lips again. With another meek smile, he nodded. In hindsight, he shouldnʼt have revealed that much. Now that he was full, hydrated and lucid, he couldnʼt even remember much of the part where he woke up except that there was skin showing. Besides, nightmares were such…intimate little things that no one talked about. Unless they were begging for sympathy or something else more awkward. 

“It was a fever dream,” Ignis dismissed it. “I saw umm…” He glanced at the plastic bag of empty foodstuff beside Gladioʼs foot. “Late last night, I saw something…rather…” His toes curled with the memory. “Unsavory…in one of the meeting rooms. You see, a place like that…people spend so much time inside, in their desks, that they barely have time for themselves…and for their other needs.”

“Oh…”

Ignis shook his head. “It must have been a combination of that, and my fatigue and my hunger.” He smiled at Gladio. “So you see, itʼs nothing serious.”

“Iʼm glad,” Gladio said. 

“Is it your day-off today?”

“Nah, it ainʼt.” Gladioʼs smile was tinged with a little sullenness. “I gotta go back soon for the gym and then rehearsals. I get off Thursday, though. Wanna date?” And just like that, he was all teeth again. 

It made Ignis choke out a laugh. Without another thought, he nodded. “Let’s actually do this date now.”

—

Gladio stayed long enough to watch Ignis finish his food and talk a little about his room. He liked the tin can vase, he read the first few pages of the book _History In Her Fingers_ until the bookmark for which Ignis had used his _Honeybee Inn_ calling card. He carried the plastic bag down to the kitchen to bin it—in the meantime, Ignis changed to a fresh set of clothes, combed his hair and finally put on his glasses.

“Gladio,” Ignis called the man in surprise when he reappeared with a smile, pulling the door shut with him. “I thought I said I was going to meet you downstairs?” Gladio had decided against it but Ignis insisted he wanted to see Gladio off for a change, and that a walk would do him well. 

“Yeah,” Gladio said, taking him into his arms by the waist. Ignisʼ hands landed on the straps of his shirt. “But then I wonʼt be able to do this.”

He kissed him, and the press of his addictive lips was enough to leave Ignis trembling in his stomach and his knees. The effect had him swooning deeper into Gladio until he had to grasp his neck and shoulder just to stay with the moment. 

Gladio had a ready smirk on his face when they parted. Ignis, half-dazed, saw nothing but the shape of his lips. “I wanted to chase you back earlier when you kissed me first but I knew you were starving,” he rumbled to him, that deep voice causing Ignis to shudder pleasantly in his arms. “So I didnʼt have the heart.”

He caressed the thin layer of his beard under his fingers, still gazing at his full lips. “I would have been satisfied either way,” he sighed. “But this is getting dangerous.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Ignis reached for him again with his lips. 

He didnʼt imagine it was possible at all but somehow Gladio managed to pull him closer without hurting him. Ignis buried his fingers in the thickness of his hair while his right hand slid down to Gladioʼs defined pecs under his shirt. This was so cruel. The Planet was so cruel when they created a man this breathtaking. How could he resist him? 

Somehow they managed to extract themselves from each other long enough for Ignis to pull them out of his room and lock it before they decide to go back and make out for the rest of the day. Which he was fine with but he shouldnʼt do this to Gladio. 

“By the way, is there a weapons shop around here somewhere?”

“There is,” Ignis replied, nodding at the man whose hand he held. “Donʼt you have one in Wall Market?”

“Need someone who could do home service,” Gladio explained. “I got this sword that needs looking at. I havenʼt used it in a while so itʼs gotten a little dull and rusty.”

“Iʼm acquainted with the weapon maker around here,” Ignis shared. “But I am uncertain if he can do what you have in mind. Still it wonʼt hurt to try.” He smiled at Gladio. “I can pull a favor from him.”

His friend was as surly as ever when they arrived, though the appearance of a new face, and one that was ripped, certainly piqued his interest. “He a fighter or something?” he asked Ignis who took it upon himself to charm the man into a more cordial mood while Gladio looked around the shop. 

“Do you remember my teammate in the Colosseum?” Ignisʼ involvement in it became the talk of the town for a hot second once. His friendʼs eyes grew tenfold when he nodded to his suitor. 

By the time he had come out of his storefront, he had enough spirits to put a smile on and wipe his hands down his denim apron. Gladio for his part had spotted an unpolished steel on the workbench with a crude grip, long enough to actually be taller than him. “Oh yeah, thatʼs,” he gestured to the gray blade, “thatʼs still in the works. Still gotta trim it down since the mixed metal makes it too heavy— _whoah, hey!_ ” He jumped back to the counter. 

Gladio had just lifted the weapon off the wood and raised the bottom of the hilt to his eye as if to inspect for imperfections along the swordʼs angle…all with just one hand. Ignis knew he was a strong man, had seen the way he took on several beasts in the underground arena but somehow, he thought he would always be surprised by such raw display of his strength. 

His eyes slid over to his steady arm, traced the swollen hills of his biceps. Ignis swallowed his spit in the absence of water. 

“Good edge, though,” Gladio commented, pointing the blade forward. His form was impeccable, shoulders straight, feet symmetrical, chin up. Ignis remembered, then, that Gladio hadnʼt revealed how he learned how to fight yet—only that he did and that the slums had forced his hand, as it were. 

Seeing him this way, he doubted it was just some backstreet school for self-defense. 

“You make much of these?” Gladio asked Ignisʼ friend, putting the blade back where it rested. He was interviewing him. 

“Here and there,” the weapon vendor answered with a little toss of his hand. The other one went inside his pocket. “The merc in townʼs carrying one of my own on his back.”

Gladio nodded, looking fairly impressed. “You do home service?” He crossed his arms, facing the man. “I got one just like this but itʼs gone old and rusty. But I donʼt like carrying it around much so I was hoping you could come and fix it up for me instead.”

“Errr, Iʼll see…” The vendor was scratching his head. He nodded to Gladio. “Where do you live?”

“Just around Wall Market.”

“Why not just ask the guy there?”

“Canʼt, says he doesnʼt do home service.” Gladio tossed his hand to him. “‘sides, you just told me youʼve got that mercenary carrying around your weapon. Iʼm pretty much sold now. Iʼm willing to pay you fairly. In cash.” Ah, the prize money. 

The vendor made a humming noise, smoothing the back of his hair in thought. “Iʼll have to see it first before I know what to charge and what stuff to bring.” He was still uncertain about this arrangement. 

“Sounds fair,” Gladio accepted with several pensive nods. “Look, if youʼre down, Iʼll call you when you can drop by and pay you 50% of your asking price on the spot.” The vendorʼs eyes went wide. “Youʼll get the other 50% after service has been rendered.”

“It sounds like a fine deal to me,” Ignis stepped in smoothly, turning to face his friend. “I know this man, he wonʼt break his word.”

“You borrowed money from him?” the vendor asked. 

“I did win in the _Corneo Colosseum_ next to him,” Ignis reminded him. “Come now, Iʼm calling in a favor.” If he accepted, this would make them square. 

His friend considered the bargain again, frowning at Ignis. Easy money was always a sibling to trouble, after all. “Fine,” he conceded eventually, waving Gladio over to the store. “Cʼmere, let me give you my card.”

After contacts had been exchanged, they waved goodbye and made their way to the station where Gladio would take a train towards Sector 5.

“Thanks for helping me out back there,” Gladio said, slipping the calling card in his pocket. 

“Donʼt mention it.” Ignis smiled. He curled his brows after. “So the sword you were talking about…”

“Yeah,” Gladio nodded, “itʼs one of those things.”

“And how did you come upon that?”

“Saw it, thought it looked nice, got it, kept it.” Gladio shrugged, then grinned at Ignis. “Maybe one day, Iʼll get to show you, huh?”

“Maybe one day, Iʼll actually get to see where you live,” Ignis countered. 

“Maybe soon,” Gladio returned to him. 

They bought his ticket from the booth and waited for the train to arrive. In the meantime, Gladio concerned himself with Ignisʼ health again, laying a hand gently on his back. When the first car appeared in the distance, Ignis took his hand to squeeze it. 

“Break a leg later,” Ignis told him. “Thanks again for coming all this way.”

“Iʼm glad I did,” Gladio said. He carried his hand to his lips and branded the back of it with a long kiss. It made Ignis smile. “Iʼll message you, okay?”

Ignis nodded. 

They waved to each other as the train arrived and Gladio got on. Ignis waited for it to pull out before he turned back and started for his apartment. 

That hand Gladio kissed, he raised it to his smile and sealed it with his own lips.

—

The next day, Ignis decided he didnʼt want to wait much longer until he saw Gladio again. It wasnʼt fair anyway that he was the only one who kept being surprised. He wanted to do the same for his suitor, too.

His friends let out a long, “Whooooaaaahhh!” when he finally brought out the baking tray from the oven—first Prompto and then Noct who joined his best friend across the counter mid-beat. The ulwaat berry muffins turned out more perfect than Ignis could have hoped for. Every one of them was golden and had risen to the perfect mushroom dome, dotted equally with berries leaking that sweet, velvety juice for a textured bite of the moist and fluffy bread. 

_If_ it was moist and fluffy on the inside. The moment of truth came soon enough after Prompto had satisfied himself with his photos so that Ignis could transfer one of them from the cooling rack onto a small plate to cut up in quarters. Noctʼs hand darted for one of them. “Noct! Did you wash your—”

Too late—the chunk of muffin was already in his mouth and he was humming out a long note, just as Prompto fed himself his own piece. 

His reaction was more electrified, bouncing wide-eyed on his feet. “Ignis, these are a-maaaaazing!”

“I wanna buy them all,” Noct agreed, moaning in approval. “Hey Prompto, why donʼt you just hire Ignis as your family cook? He can sleep in the guest room.”

“Mmm, should I take it up with my parents?” Prompto was sucking at his fingers. 

Noct who knew best nodded at his friend. “Tell them your house is going to smell like muffins every day.” Before that, the younger man had been contented to read his comic book in the living room until the fragrance of oven baking drew him to the kitchen. He wasnʼt supposed to come over for Ignisʼ last dinner at Promptoʼs house but then the host nagged him and he came along easily enough. 

“Whereʼd you learn to make these things?” He welcomed himself to another piece while Prompto finished the last. 

Leaving none for the baker himself to try. He sighed, though he figured this was a good sign. “My uncle used to work in the kitchens up here,” he shared, taking another muffin from the tray to slice it up. Noct and Prompto casually took a piece each but at least this time, Ignis managed to secure himself one of the last. “He cooked for restaurants, diners, houses…and he learned to bake from the pastry shops, as well.”

“Heʼs really talented,” Noct noted with a mouthful. 

“He taught me every one of those recipes he learned, every technique he gained,” Ignis went on, feeling the bread on his thumb as he tilted it to one of the dangling lights over the kitchen counter, observing the texture. “And then I learned some more for myself.” Finally, he broke himself a chunk and put it in his mouth. 

“So how come youʼre not doing the same?” Noct asked. He took the last piece, split it in half and shared it with Prompto. 

The bread was soft enough in his mouth, a bit too crumbly for his preferences but not enough to ruin the whole experience. Some tartness, a good bite from the fruit bits, just sweet enough to leave room for another piece… 

Ignis nodded, consuming his sample bites. This would do perfectly well. “I saw firsthand how difficult it was for him,” he answered. He turned back to the sink to wash his hands. “Besides, Iʼm in line for another promotion. The director has told me himself.”

“Ooooh,” both Noct and Prompto chorused. 

“Prompto,” Ignis dried his hands on his apron and took an empty cardboard box waiting beside the rack, “thank you for letting me use your oven.”

“ _Mm_ , youʼre welcome!!” Prompto had parked himself to his best friendʼs side so he was leaning over the counter again to watch Ignis move the best-looking muffins to the box, until he made six. “Should I ask Cindy to watch out for Gladio now?”

“Eh?” Noct turned round eyes to his schoolmate. “Gladio?”

“Yes, please,” was all Ignis said to Prompto, ignoring Noctʼs question on purpose. 

“All right, leave it to me!” Prompto whipped up his phone and set to work. “Hey Noct, do you wanna come with us?”

“Uh, sure…” Noct trailed off then frowned in confusion at the both of them. “Hey, hey, hey, whatʼs Gladio got to do with this?”

“Gladio and Ignis are daaating,” Prompto answered easily. 

“What— _seriously?_ ” Noct pushed himself up his feet to stare at Ignis. With a silent smile, Ignis only nodded. “Hey, since when? Since the fight?”

“More or less,” Ignis answered. They hadnʼt been official then but they were pretty much already on their way. 

Promptoʼs phone gave out a cheerful beat. “Huh? Really?” Brows furrowed in intrigue, he tapped out busily on his screen. 

“What is it?” Ignis leaned a little towards his friend. 

“Gladio didnʼt come in today,” Prompto announced. He looked up to the surprised Ignis. “Cindy said he asked to trade his Thursday rest day with another guy tonight.” And when the hell was his suitor planning to tell him that? 

Ignis frowned, face falling to the box of muffins heʼd already prepared for his surprise visit.

—

_How are things?_ he asked him in a Lifestrm message.

That was 15 minutes ago, sent while he was still on the bus. Now he was walking to the train station and the man hadnʼt so much as seen it yet. 

Ignis exhaled, hanging his head back but couldnʼt seem to force himself to put his phone inside his suit jacket. Following this development, there was nothing he could do, then, but to head on home with the box of muffins he only took with him because it was otherwise awkward to abandon it with his friends. Like some jilted ex. With no Gladio tonight, though, and likely none tomorrow… 

Well, he supposed he could just share it with his neighbors but… 

Ignis bit back a groan and a tut when he checked his phone for any notifications but found only his plain lockscreen mocking him. There was no reason to think that Gladio had lied to him on purpose, of course. Especially after going all the way to his home yesterday, but… 

But when was he planning to _tell him_? If this truly was an emergency like it seemed now, Ignis would understand, but he wanted to be there for him during the bad times, as well. Wonʼt he let him? 

_Gladio, if you need m_

His phone fell from his hands and landed like a toy between his feet when someone had tumbled onto his back and pushed him off. Ignis would have fallen along if it hadnʼt been for his trained balance and swift response. 

With his left hand, the gift bag that carried his muffins dangling wildly on his wrist, he grasped the offenderʼs shoulder and incited a cry of pain from him. A flash of steel and Ignis jumped back to safety, pitching his pastries at his attacker to distract his movements. 

There was a pause where the stranger recollected himself, hugging his sagging backpack, and Ignis filled his left hand with his heavy messenger bag as a weapon and shield. That was all he needed to gauge the situation: his attacker was smaller than him under his dark jacket, injured along both wrists with several tapes over his face—

Claymore Aquila stared back at him as soon as he recognized him. “You again?!” he started. 

Ignis frowned. “What are you—”

“Just get out of here! This has nothing to do with you,” Claymore spat out as he whirled and took off again, down the corner. This _insolent_ —

“ _Stop,_ ” Ignis barked, snatching his phone from the ground and giving chase. One part of him knew he should just do as he was told and turn back meekly but the same part was _tired_ of this! No part of him was taught to back down when scorned and if this turned out to be worse than a simple accident, then he better make sure he was kept out of it. 

A true slum dweller, despite his injuries, Claymore could run when his life depended on it. By the time Ignis had caught up to the corner, he had already cleared half the street and showed no signs of flagging. 

He kept at him, though, catching up little by little except for when Claymore changed directions to lose him. When Ignis thought that he had pushed him to circle back to their original destination, though, Claymore proved him wrong again and twisted into a narrow alley. 

That led him into a dead end. With no Claymore in sight. 

Ignis exhaled, taking a moment to catch his breath on the brick wall to his right, wipe his sweat. The one at the dead end was littered with notices from the _Jidoor Auction House_ and across him, next to the ajar door, was a steel staircase leading up to the fire escape. He must have gone that way, he thought. 

Ignis walked to the last few rungs and looked up to gauge the height. His right foot landed on some rock when he stepped back. Looking down, he saw that it was a golden padlock, separated from its silver hoop. He could think of one place it was ripped from. 

He inspected the door—plain wood, with a sticker that called it the _Jidoor Admissions Office B_. Whatever was through this door would not be valuable enough to warrant extra security. 

By the moonlight and streetlights falling through the square windows, Ignis found the admissions office in a complete wreck. Paper and notebooks everywhere, filing cabinets and tables left open. A security camera cracking under Ignisʼ heel. 

He stumbled forward and continued his exploration. There was nothing valuable in that office but whoever went through its contents was looking for something important to _them_. But none of these told him if Claymore Aquila went this way. 

Until he caught a silhouette running past an open door just across him. 

Ignis tensed, forced his breath under control and marched onwards to the open door. It led him out to a wider corridor flanked by sealed doors that were branded with codes. No windows to see through except for another square one at one end, giving him just enough light to see that the other direction led to a hallway branching right. Could Claymore have gone that way? The silhouette did make for it. 

_This is insane,_ he snapped to himself but didnʼt listen to his wiser voice. He made it to the corner, turned… 

Found himself gazing at a dimmer labyrinth that led to more sealed doors and similar hallways. Still no Claymore. 

Ignis huffed. There was nothing left for him here—

The whoosh in the air pulled him to spin with his forearms crossed over his head. Something landed heavily on his shield and sent him sprawling down to the floor with a cry from the impact. A shift of a foot brought him instantly to his hands for a back flip. 

Foot connected to torso, forcing out a muffled grunt. By and large though, Claymore was still on his feet. 

Ignis muttered out a curse and turned and ran out to the maze. Claymore gave chase. 

_Brilliant,_ Ignis snarled to himself as he searched for an exit. _Just brilliant!!_ Trespassing, destruction of private property, and now he was about to be killed by an axe murderer! Stupid pride, should have listened to his smarter voice while he still could. Every door he tried was sealed and with no place to hide, not even a window to break through, he couldnʼt stop to bring out his daggers from his bag. Add to that, the absence of proper lighting that made it difficult for him to map out his escape…! 

He nearly cried out when he came upon a dead end but found his escape blocked soon enough with his assailant aiming for his shoulders. Ignis brought up both of his forearms to block his hands, forced them apart as he lowered himself and smashed his head up Claymoreʼs chin. He started to escape, then—

A hand caught him by the forearm and yanked him back. A solid fist landed on his side when he tried to dodge. Ignis gasped, his insides tightening as he crumpled to his knees and started to cough. Claymore grasped him by his shoulders. 

That was the opportunity he seized with the heel of his dominant right shooting up to smack him on his nose. Claymore flailed and fell to his back. 

Ignis pushed himself up his feet but the pain from the punch made it difficult to negotiate with the rest of his limbs. Despite that, he forced himself to limp urgently out to safety. 

Fast arms lashed around his biceps, squeezing him with those locking fists pushing against his ribcage. Ignis coughed. He meant to suffocate him. 

“Claymore!” Ignis grunted, trying to shake free from his solid grip to no avail. He couldnʼt understand how a small man with injured arms like Claymore could withstand all his attacks with enough strength left to do this. Weaving his hands together, he pulled left then struck the manʼs ribs with his right elbow. Once, twice… 

Couldnʼt even make his locking hand slip. Even when Ignis smashed his heel on a foot, Claymore wouldnʼt even flinch. And he was starting to feel lightheaded… 

Holding his breath, Ignis dropped his head and his shoulders forward until his weight was sagging. 

That was enough to convince Claymore that his work was done, and he could break his grip to ease him down to the floor. 

The perfect opportunity for Ignis to retaliate and swing a sharp fist to his eyes. 

Claymore blocked that attack with a quick arm and the rest that followed. Back on his feet, Ignis pushed him deeper into the dead end with swift attacks that forced his attacker into the defensive. Without his daggers, Ignis would have to make do with his intuition and basic martial arts. Unfortunately not his strongest suit. 

One mistake was all Claymore needed to put his foot back into the offensive. And then they were trading blows, one faster than the other, high, low, feints and serious strikes. Ignis moved quickly and could slip in and out of swinging arms with ease but where balance, power and tenacity were concerned, Claymore moved with envious mastery. 

He couldnʼt believe that heʼd learned all this just from surviving the slums, though. His endurance, his controlled blows, his quick response, Ignis would better believe that they came from the military! 

Ignisʼ cutting hook missed the mark. He raised his left arm to block on instinct—but nothing came. 

That was when he knew that heʼd committed a dangerous mistake, and the reward for it was a gloved hand enclosing around his neck—and choking him. 

Ignis gasped when his back met the wall, grasping at the wrist that carried him higher until his feet were dangling just off the floor. Panic followed without a moment wasted. He knew he still had a chance to escape this death grip but between the hysteria, his racing heart and the discomfort around his neck, he couldnʼt pull his feet to kick at the right spot. Couldnʼt shake himself free because then it hurt, couldnʼt even claw at the skin because of the glove… 

_This is how it ends._ That treacherous thought echoed out from the dark recesses of his mind. He gasped and coughed, clawed and kicked uselessly, tears streaming from the corner of his eyes. _This is how I will die!_

He saw his father, then, shattered black and red in the tracks leading out of Sector 7.

He saw his uncle in the morgue, legs too long for the blanket and the table, calloused feet swollen, toenails yellow and cracked. 

He saw himself on the floor, broken like a puppet, surrounded by a white line, marked by a number…another nameless statistic, one among hundreds of dead slum dwellers. 

Impossible…this couldnʼt be how he died, he wasnʼt ready to die like this!! 

Ignis forced his saliva down his throat as he gripped the hand that would kill him by the forearm. What little air he had left, he preserved it as he started to count one…two…three—

With a roar, he swung his leg high and smashed it down onto the shoulder opposite of the offensive arm. Freedom came with a burst of light and relief, to the sound of Claymoreʼs own muffled yell. 

Ignis landed on the floor and crumpled to his side. He gasped deeply, coughed. For the most part, his neck was still intact and except for the lightness in his head and the tightness in his lungs, nothing was ruined. 

He couldnʼt take his chances, though. A shaking hand pulled his phone from the inside of his jacket and dialed the number of the Shinra police. 

When Claymore grabbed for him again, Ignis dragged himself to roll on his knees before he flashed the threat on his screen. He coughed and wheezed. “One move,” he snarled in a heavy voice, trying to swallow down his erratic heart. He fixed his skewed glasses. “One wrong move and I _will_ call the police!”

But his luck had run out—Claymore didnʼt heed his warning. A fierce hand grasped his wrist and squeezed it until the pain weakened his grasp on his phone and the man ripped it free from him. He fell on his knee and brought out the flashlight to look closely at Ignisʼ face. Pulled down his mouth scarf… 

“ _Ignis?_ ” Gladio gasped. 

Ignis stared up at him. Amber eyes under the visor of his cap, the line of his scar visible on his cheek now… 

He started to cough again.

—

In the end, he did get to surprise Gladio _and_ land a date with him.

If sitting in a knock-off Wutai teahouse in some obscure corner of upper Sector 4 could be considered a date. 

It wasnʼt the kind of place he would have gone to at all, if the idea wasnʼt just to disappear. It was dark, it smelled like an unwashed mop, the air conditioner rattled like an empty car and the food was pricey, too. Well, pricey for a pair of slum residents who subsisted on food with questionable quality. 

For whatever it was worth, service was fast at least. Ignis ordered congee with strips of Chocobo while Gladio chose a dark broth of coarse-looking noodles and dumplings that was more skin than meat. He also ordered some side dishes for them to share. 

Gladio picked up his spoon and began to slurp up his steaming bowl. His cap was off but his hair was still tied in a little knot at the back. 

Judging from his facial expression, Ignis could tell that this whole affair was subpar at best. “How are you feeling?” he asked, still trying to remember how to use his voice, though it wasnʼt that his neck hurt but his throat still felt a little tender and his fingers were still caressing it. 

Gladio nodded, dropping his spoon to grasp his left shoulder where Ignis smashed his leg to escape his choke hold. “Better,” he said, though his eyes were drawn to the dishes between them. After theyʼd escaped the auction house through a different gate, Ignis took the time to heal him with a _Cura_ spell before they took off to wherever they were sitting now. 

Ignis nodded. “You know, I was with Prompto and Noct earlier, in Promptoʼs house. I baked you some muffins because I wanted to surprise you today.”

That caused Gladio to blink and look up to him. “Yeah?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Ignis answered. “Unfortunately, Cindy told us that you hadnʼt come in today and had asked to trade with someone. Despite the fact that we both agreed to go out on a date tomorrow evening.”

Gladio hissed, rubbing the back of his neck in shame. “Look, I was gonna tell you—”

“When were you planning to tell me?”

“Ignis, hear me out—”

“And what were you doing in that place!”

“Well, what were _you_ doing in that place?” Gladio snapped back. 

Touché. Ignis frowned darkly and glared at the large bag stretched across the floor beside them. He hadnʼt noticed it while he and Gladio were dueling in the dark but apparently heʼd been carrying it on his back the whole time. He thought it looked like it carried a narrow surfboard of sorts. 

Gladio rubbed his eyes then scratched his head. “I didnʼt mean to attack you, Ignis,” he tried again, waiting until Ignis faced him before he continued. “It was dark—you know how dark it was in there, I couldnʼt see much better than you. I thought you were a part of the security team!”

“What would you have done if you found out too late?” Ignis snarled. “You tried to suffocate me twice, you could have killed me!”

“Ignis,” Gladio shook his head, “if I wanted to kill you and the guards we saw at the back gate earlier, you would be dead by now.” 

Ignis stared hard at him. How could he say those words with such steadiness and not feel frightened of himself?! 

“I was trying to suffocate you until you fainted,” Gladio explained himself. “Just long enough for me to get out of that place! I didnʼt kill anyone going in and getting out!”

“How does that make things better?” Ignis snapped at him with a sharp hiss. “How could you say these things without even flinching?! Are you some mercenary for hire?”

“No?”

“A hitman?”

“No!” Gladio shifted back in alarm at the accusation. 

“So a thief, then?” Ignis persisted, frowning deeply at the man across him, arms along his chest. “You certainly left the Admissions Office B in a disarray.”

“I never went there.”

Ignis glared at him. 

“Iʼm not lying,” Gladio insisted calmly, hands up. “That was supposed to be my exit until I heard you moving in the room. That was when I decided to go back the way I came.”

“How did you hear me?”

“Door creaking, paper shifting on the floor, also you cracked something.” The security camera. “You werenʼt really subtle.”

“You lied to me, attacked me, and now youʼre insulting me.”

“Ignis, come _on_!” Gladio snarled, glaring back at him with impatience over his brows. “Okay, look,” he returned himself to the table, palms flat on the surface as he looked him in the eye and apologized. “Iʼm sorry, I didnʼt mean to insult you and I really didnʼt wanna attack you. But I swear, it wasnʼt my intention to lie to you! I really was gonna tell you after this whole thing was over!”

“That what?” Ignis was relentless. “That you had to ditch me because you were going to trespass into the auction house at night?”

“I wasnʼt—” Gladio clicked his tongue in frustration, scratching at the scar on his forehead. “I was going to tell you that something came up and I had to trade with someone.” He folded his arms on the table, facing Ignis. “That if it wasnʼt too late for you, I could meet you at Sector 7 after the show. I had every intention to push through with the date.”

Ignis didnʼt utter a response. The fact remained that Gladio wasnʼt going to tell him the truth behind his actions and assumed that he would be just fine with the arrangement. Then again, it wasnʼt like anyone could go around telling what they did in the auction house last night. Ignis couldnʼt even try for himself. 

Cornered again. He hated this. He wanted to know _why_ Gladio was there, all suited up and ready for whatever he did, why telling Ignis about switching his day-off wasnʼt his priority…and they were supposed to be dating! Werenʼt they? Still? 

“Did anyone see you?” Ignis asked, preferring a different question where he hoped to get a more proper answer. 

Gladio shook his head. “No one except you.”

“Did you see anyone?”

Again, he answered: “No one except you.”

So…that meant that Claymore never went in there during the chase. Heʼd already lost him the moment he saw that open door. He should never have come in in the first place. 

Ignis huffed out through his nostrils. He picked up his spoon and finally stirred his bowl. Gladio followed his cue and did the same. 

“By the way,” he asked quietly after a moment, a far cry from all his frustrated notes from earlier. Gladio faced Ignis who slurped his food from the deep, cheap ceramic spoon, tasting nothing. “How did you know that name?”

“What name?”

“The name you said during the fight.”

“I didnʼt…” Ignis paused. He did, in fact. When he didnʼt know yet that it was Gladio who was trying to kill him. “Claymore?”

Gladio nodded. 

Ignis frowned slightly. “Heʼs a friend,” was all he said. 

“Oh,” Gladio replied. “Okay, then.” With a nod, he turned back to his soup, scooping up a dumpling to eat. Why would he ask that? 

Was he acquainted with Claymore Aquila? But it didnʼt seem like he was interested to know about Ignisʼ story…but why would he be interested in that name? He didnʼt even ask _who_ he was, if he was like…an ex Ignis was calling for to save him.

The more he pondered about this whole conversation—this whole _evening_ , though, the less it made sense to him. First trespassing in a private property for no reason, then attacking him in the dark without reservations…and now this… 

Gladio chewed thoughtfully at his food, though he had a distant look on his face that seemed distracted. 

Ignis sighed quietly to himself, frowning at the enigma in front of him. _Who are you, Gladio?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, jidoor is from ff6 lmao /peace
> 
> thanks for the kudos and comments and hits!! 💕💕💕


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new tag added as a warning for _implied/referenced suicide_!

Before he left that morning, Ignis spent five minutes staring at an empty message field while the patient cursor blinked diligently. But when nothing new came of the conversation from either him or the other guy, he closed the app, picked up his bag and stepped out of his unit. 

It was a Saturday, which meant that he was expected before lunch at Noctʼs place. On his way to the train station, he passed by the Neighborhood Watch HQ where someone had called his attention. 

“You got time?” It was his friend the weapon vendor, sitting out the door to his shop, a cigarette stick in hand. Ignis didnʼt appreciate lingering near the smoke but he didnʼt care to be impolite either. 

He waved his hand as he stepped closer, though. Fortunately for him, the vendor heard him loud and clear and stomped off the cigarette under his toes. “Heading up?”

“Indeed,” Ignis answered, fixing his glasses with his revelation. 

His friend nodded and gestured to him vaguely. “I figured you looked too nice for an undercity tour.” He glanced off his side after his dutiful observation. “Listen—this Gladio guy, howʼd you come to meet him?”

“I had visited a club in Wall Market once,” Ignis explained vaguely with a little toss of his shoulder, his hand on his side. “He worked there, we talked and then became fast friends.”

“Does he work there full-time?”

“As far as heʼs told me,” Ignis answered. He didnʼt think his friend would be quite so interested in his suitor, though. “Why? Is there a message I can deliver for you?”

The vendor wiped the air with his hand. “I have a message for you, not him.” He cleared his throat, parking his own elbows on his knees. 

“Try not to get too close to him if you can,” he advised Ignis in a quieter note, frowning mildly. 

Ignis frowned back at the sudden, unwarranted guidance. “And why is that?” That wouldnʼt be possible, besides—he and Gladio were dating. Still dating, he supposed. 

“I went to his place yesterday,” his friend went on to share. So Gladio was still alive. “I saw the sword. And itʼs not like any sword Iʼd touched, thereʼs no way anyone in the undercity has any right to own something like that.”

“So you think he stole it?” Ridiculous. Ignis crossed his arms, listening with a soft glare. To be fair, though, Gladio never mentioned how he came upon the sword, just that he managed to secure it for himself. And Ignis had only assumed that someone as generous as him would have procured it by fair means. 

“Well, I dunno how he got it,” the vendor admitted, but he was still frowning. “Itʼs just that I swear Iʼve seen that sword somewhere before. I just canʼt place my mind on it but I know this isnʼt the first time I looked at it.” Thatʼs funny, all right. 

“You’re certain?” Ignis pressed him. How would that be possible if he and Gladio hadnʼt even met each other before? 

“Hey, cʼmon, where do you think we weapon makers get our inspiration from?” The vendor spun his pointing finger. “Stuff like that goes around.”

“So one of your friends made it?”

“Thatʼs the thing, I doubt itʼs by anyone down here.” The man rubbed his bearded chin, scratching at it a little. “Even if itʼs a replica, no one in their right mind would spend too much metal experimenting on a single piece. Itʼs intricate, itʼs delicate…but itʼs real.”

“So youʼre telling me…” Ignis narrowed his eyes. “…he could have gotten it from someone, somewhere…topside?”

The vendor frowned, shrugged, tossed a hand. “Up there, _out_ there…”

“Outside of Midgar.”

His friend nodded. He gestured to him. “Where did you say he came from again?” He didnʼt. 

Ignis snarled quietly in his nostrils. He knew it, heʼd given his heart too soon. “Iʼll let you know when I find out.” He tipped his head to him. “Thank you for the word of warning.”

His friend saluted him. 

He left him there and marched onwards for the train. Ignis said he would let him know but he didnʼt even know when they would meet or speak again. 

A glance at his Lifestrm app told him that the man had neither posted a new picture nor sent him a new message. Ignis exited to his lockscreen and put away his phone. 

Three days had passed since he and Gladio last spoke.

—

They started early…too early for Noct, in fact, that he hadnʼt had breakfast yet and Ignis ended up making him an omelette because he couldnʼt decide what he wanted from the food delivery app. It was the family cookʼs day off so Noct and Prompto were planning to subsist on pizza and junk food for the whole day. “You’re not a real uni student if you donʼt type with grease on your fingers,” Noct said.

Ignis wouldnʼt have it and made them a baked salmon and wild rice casserole with buttered corn and carrots on the side. Simple enough to whip up on the fly and plentiful for four people, including a lawyer CEO whoʼd had his lunch meeting canceled and came home thinking he might eat out with his son and his sonʼs best friend. 

At 3 in the afternoon, they finished early that day—Noct and Prompto had a birthday party to attend and they still didnʼt have any presents for the celebrator. 

After bidding goodbye to them, Ignis dropped by the gorgeous living room where the master of the house decided to take his work. He was on the phone, though, on the sofa that faced the wide-screen television on the wall. _Jidoor CEO Hauser resigns due to scandal_ , the bold headlines read. 

“ _…at a time when the famous auction house is facing embezzlement and drug-related charges. Before this, an unknown tip reached the police with a ledger,_ ” the screen showed a green ledger notebook and a black backpack on the police table, the same shot that had alarmed Ignis the first time he saw it when he remembered the bag that Claymore carried, “ _listing multiple illegally-procured vases from Wutai where the drug stash was hidden._ ” The vases in question came on screen. “ _The auction house has also reported that the sword of former 2nd Class SOLDIER Clarus Amicitia has gone missing on the same night of the burglary._ ” The news was now showing an empty case with a velvet lining, long enough to require two people to carry it. It couldnʼt be…could it? 

Impossible—Gladio had had his copycat sword longer than Amicitiaʼs sword was stolen. Just because they could both be greatswords… 

He said goodbye when Noctʼs father Regis got up with an empty glass of water and saw him. 

Before he made his way to the train station, Ignis took a detour and dropped by a bookstore chain to look into securing a few copies of Noctʼs textbooks for himself. Heʼd taken note of the titles and the authors and thought he might do a little of his own reading to better equip himself with Noctʼs needs. 

After heʼd given them to one of the staff, he waited by the customer service counter where several copies of the _Midgar Daily News_ waited to be picked up. The headlines blared about the terrorist attack on the No. 5 Reactor, but the Jidoor Auction House was still given some notable places on the front page. 

“Welcome,” the lady at the customer counter greeted the opening door. 

“Hey, Iʼm here to pick up a…” The deep voice trailed off. 

Ignis snapped in attention and whirled to the large man standing behind him. Gladio stood with his own look of surprise, in a leather jacket, a white top and worn pair of jeans. 

“Hey,” Gladio breathed. 

Ignis shifted on his feet to face him. “Well, hello to you, too,” he returned. So he was still alive, all right… 

Gladio tried to press a smile onto his lips. Behind him, the staff member who took care of Ignisʼ inquiry reappeared with a, “Sir!” and waved two books at him. 

Ignis nodded to him gratefully, excused himself, and followed him to the cashier just next to the counter, with one of the newspapers. “Iʼll be taking this, as well.”

“Do you have a reservation, Sir?” the woman asked Gladio as he stepped up. 

“Yeah. Itʼs under Gladio Hester.” Hester. 

“Just a moment, Sir.” So thatʼs his last name. 

Ignis paid with his card and received his items in a handsome gift bag. Over to his side, the woman placed three paperbacks and a hardbound book on the counter. Gladio thanked her for it and turned for the till. 

Ignis nodded to him then thanked the staff as he made a beeline to the door. He knew, though, that he couldnʼt very well ignore the man just because this meeting caught them by surprise. For one, they were supposed to still be in a relationship with each other. For another, he and Gladio parted in…awkward terms the last time they met. And then there was that conversation he had with the weapon maker just this morning… 

Gladio stepped out with a wide smile and a wave to the bookstore, though he carried his books in a shopping bag that advertised the pharmacy in Wall Market. All of that cheer fell off his face when he found that Ignis was waiting for him by the roadside barrier. 

Ignis offered a little waving hand of his own for that. “Mm…new books?” Obviously. 

“Uh, yeah,” Gladio said, itching lightly on his sideburn as he stepped up to him. “Just um…just some light reading. You?”

“See for yourself.” Ignis slipped out the thinner volume from his bag to present it. 

Gladioʼs eyes went wide at the cover. “ _Law?_ You takinʼ up law or something?”

Ignis surprised himself when he laughed and shook his head. “Just for the shock. I wanted to see your face.” And he wouldnʼt fool himself and think he didnʼt mean that seriously. “Iʼm helping Noct with his schoolwork and _he_ is taking up law. But I figured I might try and pick up some things to better aid him.” 

“Yeah?” Gladio smiled, crossing his arms. He looked impressed at Ignisʼ dedication. As he should, Ignis thought. “He better do a good job, all right.” 

“Heʼs a good kid,” Ignis assured him. 

And then came the dead air… 

Ignis cleared his throat, touching his glasses as he looked at their feet. Gladio was wearing impressive leather boots with a trendy brown tan. He wondered how much that cost him. “Gladio—” 

“Hey, you got time?” Gladio raced him to it, his voice gentle and quiet amidst his characteristic rumble. “I was hoping we could…maybe get some coffee together. Just to talk.” Again, like the date they never had. 

Ignis agreed readily. “I was hoping to ask you the same.”

—

By some miracle, they were graced with a space in a popular coffee chain. Ignis ordered theyʼre regular brew while Gladio settled for some iced tea.

“So…” Gladio took the brave step of opening the conversation before they ended up just awkwardly drinking their drinks in front of each other, complimenting the taste. “You doing good? Better?” For which he indicated his own neck. 

Ignis nodded. “Yes.” He leaned back to his plush seat. Across him, Gladio slouched forward, leaving his plastic cup on the small coffee table so he could press his elbows on his knees. “Since there was no damage deeper than the skin, I…recovered easily.” He had to come in to work with a light scarf tied around his neck to hide the bruise, still citing the flu. It was a very lucky excuse to have. “And…you?”

“Yeah.” Gladio copied him, straightening up a little to flex his left arm. “Nothinʼ some painkillers couldnʼt fix.” Which was good to hear, because unlike Gladio, Ignis had been determined to hurt him, then. 

“Thatʼs good,” Ignis replied. He glanced briefly at the ceramic mug on the wooden surface. “Did…have you been keeping up with the news this late?”

“Oh man, yeah, you mean the AVALANCHE attack?” Gladio shook his head in some show of amazement. “I donʼt know those guys but they sure got guts.” 

“Ah—yes,” Ignis agreed, though that was obviously not the newspiece he had in mind. “But also…the auction house…” He trailed off on purpose. 

“Oh, you mean…” Gladio tried to follow his line of thought. “The guy quitting?” 

Ignis nodded. “And…the unknown tip.” 

“Huh…” Gladio was moving his head to the same motions but it was obvious that Ignis had lost him there. 

“The ledger,” he went on, then. “The police—” 

“Oh, the uh…whistle-blower?” Gladio ventured again, catching on finally. 

“Yes,” Ignis confirmed his guess. After a secondʼs pause, he added. “So…was that…by any chance…” 

“I donʼt know that guy,” Gladio answered before Ignis could finish. _That guy,_ he said. 

“Then…” Ignis continued. “It wasnʼt—” 

“No,” Gladio cut him off again, shaking his head. “It wasnʼt me. I never went that way.” The last part, he added after another beat. Meaning he never stepped foot through the Admissions Office B where the ledger might have come from. Which put the blame right back onto the elusive Claymore. 

“I see,” Ignis said. And then his mind went to the next missing thing reported. Now that he thought about it, Gladio _had_ been carrying a long…narrow ‘surfboardʼ in the dingy teahouse that night. “And…the sword?” 

“You figured it out, didnʼt ya?” Gladio scratched his head. Ignis felt his heart stopping. “Yeah, that thing I was carrying around on my back was my sword.” Oh. So—

“You mean the one in the black bag? On the floor?” Ignis pressed him. 

“Yeah—look, I didnʼt take it with me ‘cause I wanted to use it,” Gladio started to explain, flipping his right palm up. “I really wasnʼt planning to…” There was a beat where he hesitated and glanced at the other patrons of the coffee shop. “Hurt anyone,” he mumbled, almost low enough for Ignis to miss. “They didnʼt report any…casualties, did they?” No, they didnʼt. 

The guards whoʼd been knocked out only complained of a headache and sore muscles and had been allowed to go home after the hospital gave them an all-clear. That was what the news said. 

Ignis told him as much—but they were digressing. In conclusion, Gladio had nothing to do with the missing sword from the auction house, if the one he brought was the one heʼd kept at home. The questionable one, his weapon expert friend said. 

“Have you had it checked, by the way?” Ignis gestured to him with his coffee mug. “Your sword?”

“Oh yeah,” Gladio answered, relaxing into his seat, iced tea in hand to give it a swirl. “He dropped by yesterday and gave it a look. Bit pricey, if you ask me, but Iʼm willing to pay for the quality. Seems like a guy who knows his stuff.” 

“He seemed fairly impressed when I asked him about it,” Ignis shared. “He told me he hadnʼt seen anything like it. Where did you get it from?” 

“Just from around here,” Gladio nodded to his shoulder. So his friend was right—it came from the upper plate. “But…” The corner of his lips came up. “Yeah, it is kinda special.”

“With the price tag it came with, Iʼm not surprised,” Ignis quipped, showing a little smile himself. “So this is where you spend your money on, hm? Upper plate swords, upper plate books.” Upper plate bottled water…and boots? 

“Well, a manʼs gotta have some vices, right?” Gladio grinned shyly. “Cʼmon, you canʼt tell me you ainʼt got one yourself.” Oh, if he only knew. 

Ignis stuttered a laugh. “Thatʼs between me and my money.” Gladioʼs pfft and rolling eyes brought out the rest of it. 

Another minute passed. They filled their hands and their mouths with coffee and tea. 

“So umm…” Gladio cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together, his empty cup on the table. “A…are we…” Ignis watched him from behind his warm mug, eyes slightly wide. Gladio flicked his tongue along his lips when he finally asked, “Are we gonna be okay?” Them—the two of them, as a couple. After fighting each other, literally, in every sense of the word. And parting without a suitable resolution aside from a wave. 

If a friend were to ask him this question, Ignis knew he would have provided a dismal outlook. It was different, of course, now that _he_ was the one inside that relationship. And until now… 

Until now, he realized he wasnʼt ready to cut his ties with Gladio yet. It wasnʼt a shocking revelation, but more like a quiet acceptance of how things were with him. He wouldnʼt have waited for days to get a word out of Gladio, otherwise. He would have rejected this invitation outright if he had let the fight and his friendʼs suspicion get the better of his feelings. Normally so perceptive of the situation he was in, Ignis couldnʼt say now if he was fighting the good fight or digging his own grave. What he did know, though, was that heʼd already dealt his cards. 

Now he just had to play his hand as carefully as he could. Love was a gamble, after all. “W, we can be,” Ignis answered after a deep pause, nodding first to the half-empty mug in his hands and then to the man in front of him who didnʼt know whether to smile or to keep a humbled aspect. “I think…I do think we can still be okay.” 

“I want us to be okay,” Gladio insisted. 

“This is a notch, though,” Ignis said to him, putting his coffee back on the table. “If our relationship were a cat, it may only have 8 lives left. Perhaps we can repair it one day but for now…” He chuckled suddenly, showing a little smile for it. “Itʼs strange—we fought but have nothing to talk about.” 

Gladio nodded, trying on that smile, too, but failing and choosing to press his lips into a line instead. 

“Well, nothing we wish to talk about,” Ignis corrected himself. 

“Yeah,” Gladio agreed, uttering the word in his breath. “Well, we still got 8 lives, right?” He shrugged. “Weʼre still okay.”

—

They left soon enough; it was getting crowded and they both needed to get going. Gladio for his rehearsals, Ignis for his kitchen duties.

“Thatʼs pretty cool,” Gladio said of their apartmentʼs arrangement when Ignis shared it. Side-by-side, they walked to the train station, like an everyday couple that hadnʼt just tried to kill each other in a blind race for survival. “You’re sort of like a kitchen master, ainʼt ya? You cook, you bake.” 

“I donʼt bake much, actually,” Ignis confessed. “Itʼs difficult enough for me to find a suitable oven, see?”

“So howʼd you learn all that?”

“My uncle taught me,” Ignis answered. “Now he was the real kitchen master. He was my teacher. He taught me how to eat, how to taste…how to cook, how to bake…how to survive on my own. Iʼm alive because of him.” 

“Cool,” Gladio said, visibly impressed. “Can I meet him?” Like a real suitor asking a formal introduction into the family. 

That would have been nice, Ignis thought. But with a smile, he could only shake his head, watch their feet move in a perfect beat. “He passed away when I was 17. He overworked himself until his heart gave in. He jumped from job to job just so we could have food on the table, and I wouldnʼt have to stop schooling. He was determined to see me through.” 

“What about your parents?” 

“I never knew my mother,” Ignis revealed, facing the shocked Gladio. “My father told me she fled when I was only several months old. He suspected it was postpartum depression. My only souvenir from her is a short letter she wrote me while I was still inside her. She called me Stupeo, then.” 

“Hey, thatʼs…” Gladio would be familiar with it from their Lifestrm conversations. 

Ignis nodded. “In another life, I would have been Stupeo Scientia. I donʼt know what changed between the letter and my birth certificate.” He shrugged. “But thatʼs my mother. As for my father, he…” 

He stopped briefly. They stood at an intersection and waited for the cars to stop before they could cross to the other side, Gladio putting himself between Ignis and the traffic. 

“Your dad?” Gladio prompted him when they reached the other side. 

Eyes on the pavement, searching for any advice written on the concrete, Ignis considered the words he could use before he spoke of his father. “He jumped onto the tracks…just when a train came in.” 

“Oh shit,” Gladio groaned, flinching with a phantom pain. 

“It was for the life insurance,” Ignis explained. “The loan sharks wouldnʼt leave us otherwise. After we paid off his debts, they never bothered with us, though. A death like that…it was too high profile for them.” 

“Ignis,” Gladio sighed. “Ignis, Iʼm…Iʼm really sorry…” 

With a smile and a soft laugh, Ignis shook his head. “These happened a long time ago. It was hard to accept but I managed…and now here I am. Besides, everyone in the slums has a sob story.”

Gladio scratched his head. “I guess…” 

“Is your family well?” Ignis looked at him. Though gauging from his answer, he had an idea of what his answer sounded like. 

With his own frown, Gladio shook his head. “Momʼs gone. My dadʼs a criminal.” A criminal? 

“What did he do?” Ignis frowned. 

“Got himself involved with the wrong kinda people.” Vague…but he knew better than to push. Gladio had no obligation to tell him something he wasnʼt comfortable with. “I actually donʼt see much of my family anymore.” 

“So thatʼs your sob story,” was all Ignis said, just to keep things light. A living family he didnʼt…and perhaps couldnʼt see anymore…it was almost like Prompto. 

Ignis wondered if he had it better, after all. 

“Yeah,” Gladio chuckled for it. “Yeah, thatʼs mine.” The last word softer… 

They were coming up to the train station soon enough. Ignis could see one face of the retro structure, facing a concrete plaza of sorts. Before they took another step, Ignis latched his hand onto Gladioʼs. 

That caused his suitor to stop and to eye him in mild surprise. It was a gesture that should have been nothing to them now, but after that last meeting, from where they stood, they had to pick the pieces of their relationship up again. If they wanted to try. 

And they did. They both did. “Thank you,” Ignis told him, squeezing his hand. “I really appreciate you sharing this part of your life with me.” He gazed down to their joining fingers. “It must not have been easy, especially with your father.” 

He looked up to those coffee eyes of his again. “But as your friend…or boyfriend—” 

“ _Boyfriend?_ ” That drew a sparkling grin on Gladioʼs face. 

Ignis refused to make a comment about it, though the word did make him smile bashfully. “I want to be here for you. In the good and bad times, just like you asked of me. If you would let me…I would like to get to know you better.” 

There was a shift in Gladioʼs smile when he said that. Ignis couldnʼt put his finger on it but somehow, it looked heavier…and wider, happier at the same time. 

Gladio didnʼt explain himself either. Whatever his answer was, it came in the form of an embrace that swathed Ignis in warmth and musk. A reminder of why he couldnʼt just let the man go so easily, no matter what he had heard or seen. 

A life he committed to by hugging him back. Ignis had put his chips on the table now—but whether or not he would throw it all in, it would depend on how much he could come to know Gladio.


	10. Chapter 10

And just like that, they fell so easily back into a daily rhythm of sweet messages and casual conversations, mixed in with cheesy little confessions and surprise visits or voicemails, left while the other was already asleep. 

“ _Hey, handsome,_ ” this last one went. “ _Rise and shine, you donʼt wanna be late! Youʼve got an 8 oʼclock meeting today, right?_ ” As far as being the most thoughtful boyfriend was concerned, Gladio was a true master. Whenever they called or met late at night, he always asked him how his day was, what the next one looked like, what heʼd eaten and sometimes, if he was in the mood to be cheeky, what he was wearing. “ _Donʼt forget to eat beforehand. I left you something in the fridge, go take a look. See ya!_ ” 

Nursing a little smile, Ignis would play and replay these short messages until it was time for him to get up. This was now what his morning routine looked like after heʼd given Gladio his calling card that Saturday they met again. 

“ _Keep it somewhere safe,_ ” heʼd told him, then, while Gladio was inspecting the face and the back, looking impressed. Then he brought out his phone, dialed the number and watched Ignis with a smile on his face when his own phone started to ring with an unknown number. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Ignis sighed when he accepted the call, looking back at his boyfriend, phone on ear. “ _Youʼve indeed reached Ignis Scientia. I wonʼt put a fake number on my card, Gladio._ ” 

“ _Donʼt block mine, okay?_ ” Gladio teased. It made him laugh. 

Ignis realized, then, as he was tucking in his shirt to his slacks, that he was at a terrible disadvantage here in this relationship. Gladio made it easy to be loved and painstakingly difficult to be rejected. Heʼd made a puppet out of Ignis and he was still satisfied to wear the strings. 

He reserved that trip to the kitchen for last, just to extend the excitement a little longer. That souvenir Gladio had been proud of turned out to be nothing more than his favorite cup noodle, with _Property of Ignis Scientia_ scribbled at the top of the sealed lid. The absurdity of seeing a dry meal in his fridge made him laugh so suddenly, he might have woken up the whole sector. 

_I saw your wonderful surprise in the fridge, Gladio,_ he messaged him on the train. _Do you know that no one has ever packed me a meal since my uncle passed away? Anyway, thank you. This will make for a good breakfast._

He didnʼt expect Gladio to reply instantly—the man worked late and slept late. Ignis swiped for a different name on his list, then, and typed out a new message. _Prompto, Iʼm on my way to the office. Let me know when youʼll be coming in._ He didnʼt expect him to reply fast either—he didnʼt have to catch the first train, after all. 

So for the rest of the trip to the office, he leaned back and rested his eyes.

—

Another busy morning passed him by and before he knew it, it was lunch.

He found out because this was normally the time Gladio messaged him and like clockwork, he came through. _Did you like it??_ he asked. _Itʼs my favorite flavor. Feels like sharing a meal with your boyfriend, huh??_ He added a winking face in the end. 

_Indeed,_ Ignis agreed. Earlier, he did wonder what it would feel like to share a breakfast with Gladioʼs face in front of him. Better if he prepared that breakfast for the both of them. Maybe sitting in an upper plate living room dressed only in their boxers…after a night of— _It was filling enough, thank you._ He put in a smiling face before he sent it. 

_Are you having lunch now? What are you getting_

_Not yet, I still donʼt know,_ Ignis answered. _Iʼm waiting for Prompto to come in._ His intern said earlier that they could have lunch together. But normally so punctual, he wasnʼt in the office yet… 

Ignis checked the time and noted that twenty minutes had passed. He navigated to Shinra Talk, then—

Noctʼs face filled his screen, his full name underlining his picture. 

It wasnʼt like him to call. Ignis answered him. “Yes, Noct?” 

“ _Ignis, sorry to bother you but could you come to our school?_ ” Ignis didnʼt know if it was because of the road noise or some interference or whatever but he thought the younger man was panicking. “ _Prompto got bullied—_ ” 

“ _What?!_ ” Ignis surged up to his feet, staring at his empty laptop screen in shock. Everyone in the office snapped to him in alarm. He bowed to them, grabbed his wallet and marched out of the office. “What happened?” 

“ _I dunno, Iʼm just on my way myself but Iʼm stuck in traffic. Could you go and get him? Itʼs not like him to ask for help—_ ” 

“What about his parents?” Ignis was jogging to the lift. 

“ _His parents donʼt care about him._ ” That caused Ignisʼ steps to stutter. “ _I wouldnʼt be asking you otherwise._ ” 

“Very well, Iʼm on my way,” Ignis huffed and ended the call. The lift had come. 

Despite what Noct said, though, Ignis still punched the button to the weapons division offices. Whether or not they cared about him didnʼt change the fact that legally, they were still his guardians. They had to know. 

He got off the lift, started for the door leading into the main office. 

Ignis didnʼt need to go deeper into the room to catch them, two blonde heads facing each other with rigid looks about them, one on her seat, the other on his feet near the window. 

“Well, what are we going to do?” Promptoʼs mother hissed. “Theyʼre calling again!” Her phone _was_ ringing. 

Her husband tutted sharply in impatience. “Look, just go and get him, youʼre his mother!” 

“I have a deadline with the directress in two hours!!” 

“Who doesnʼt?!” he hissed back. They were both seething at each other now. “I told you we shouldnʼt have gotten involved with those two mad men. We should never have taken the baby! Heʼs not even normal!” 

“Well, werenʼt you the one who wanted him in the first place? You said it would provide us job security!” 

“I _told_ you I had my reservations because that crazy Hojo is involved but you made me do it anyway!” 

“Me?! Oh this is all me now, isnʼt it?!” They would rather fight all day than run to their sonʼs side. So this was what Noct meant. 

Ignis had heard enough. Whatever the case of Prompto was—adopted, special…whatever!—he didnʼt deserve this. There was smoke on his heels when he whirled and marched right out of the room. Noct was right, he was right about everything—about Promptoʼs parents, about calling him… 

His phone was on his ear again when he stood by the lift, listening to the endless ringing while he waited for the doors to open. “Good afternoon, Ms. Wallis,” he started as soon as the other line had been picked up. 

“ _Mr. Scientia, thank you for calling._ ” Wallis sounded distressed, though as Promptoʼs adviser for his internship, it made sense that she would be. Prompto carried the universityʼs reputation, after all. “ _You must have heard about Mr. Argentum._ ” 

“Indeed, Iʼm calling because of that,” Ignis confirmed. The doors finally opened up but the lift was full. He raised his hand and stepped back. He would take another. “Please advise student affairs that I will be along shortly.” 

“ _You?_ ” the woman on the other line asked. “ _Well…weʼve actually been trying to contact his parents…_ ” 

“Iʼm afraid theyʼre too busy at the moment.” Ignis pressed the down button again. “They must not have heard your call.” The ding came again. “Iʼm about to get on the lift, please expect me in 15 minutes.” Only, it was for the other lift beside him. 

“ _I…I see,_ ” Wallis said. From his side, Ignis saw Ferro storming out of the lift, putting his phone on his ear as he turned to a narrow corridor leading to the fire escape. He nearly jumped at the sight of him, tried to follow him with his eyes from his place. “ _Well, then, weʼll see you._ ” 

“Yes,” Ignis replied. He said goodbye hastily and stepped quietly to the corner where he could watch Ferro pacing near the dead end, his free hand on his side. 

“What do you mean you donʼt know, what do you _mean_ you _donʼt know_?” Ferro spat to the wall. “This is our most profitable business! And you just…you just let a, a _mysterious man_ trespass it and, and, and, break the doors open?” His profile burned red until he was dark with rage. His hand came up in his frustration. “ _How?_ How are you going to catch the bastard when you donʼt even know who he is? Greatsword on his back, military-grade training—” He laughed mirthlessly. “Are you telling me itʼs that new mercenary from Sector 7?” 

Ferro stopped suddenly. “What do you mean…what do you mean itʼs _that_ sword?” He pinched his brows. “No, no, no, shut up, just shut the _fuck_ up for one second! Are you telling me…that you didnʼt finish the job?” A long pause… 

He moved again, waving a finger at a ghost. “No, you told me…listen to me, you told me that you sliced him up like his old man, you told me that he _wasnʼt. Breathing._ ” Ferro stopped again, burning the polished floor with his glare. “Do whatever you have to do to _fix this._ I want my business back, I want that bastard dead and I donʼt care who he is!! And this time…this time, you _finish. The job._ ” Ferro hung up. 

He was marching towards Ignis. 

Ignis panicked and started for the lift. Heʼd missed his one but there was another one coming in and it had _just_ enough space for him to squeeze in…! 

The doors started to close as he turned around to face them. His eyes met Ferroʼs glare just as the older man passed. 

And then he was gone.

—

He took the taxi to the nearest corner from the campus and walked the rest of the way to dodge the traffic. As soon as he was admitted in, Ignis all but ran to the administration office.

Prompto was in the assistant deanʼs room, in the right-side chair facing the woman. He had a tissue in his nose and a busted lip, dressed out of his blazer which was missing, though his white uniform didnʼt fare much better. It was dirty, stained with blood where it dripped and torn along the right sleeve from his biceps to his elbow, as if someone had grabbed it and pulled to reveal a tattoo Ignis had never seen before. Something that looked like the number 17. Heʼd always had that part covered, otherwise. 

At the moment, though, he only had his left hand to protect it. 

Prompto straightened up suddenly at Ignisʼ appearance. Still red-eyed and pale, he bowed shallowly to him in greeting. 

Ignis nodded back, then tilted it more respectfully towards the assistant dean who looked tired with what she had in her hands. “Thank you for looking after him during my absence.” 

“Thank you for coming all the way here, Mr. Scientia,” she replied in equal politeness. “Mr. Argentum was caught in a scuffle with one of his classmates. Theyʼll both be facing disciplinary actions because of this but weʼll leave that for another time.” She nodded to the long-faced student. “He can go for now.” 

“Iʼll take care of him,” Ignis assured her. He approached the younger man and offered him a little smile to ease his nerves as he touched his shoulder. “Prompto, shall we go?” 

Prompto walked gingerly beside him as they started down the corridor leading out of the office, his hand still wrapped around his sleeve. Ignis took care of his stylish bag for now. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked him. When Prompto shook his head, he didnʼt ask again. “What happened to your blazer?”

“Got egged,” Prompto mumbled, keeping his eyes averted from Ignis. “Thanks for coming, Ignis. You didnʼt have to.” He didnʼt even ask about his parents. He must have known now that they wouldnʼt come for him. 

“Come now, why wouldnʼt I be here for a friend?” Ignis nudged him lightly. “What happened, anyway?” 

Prompto shook his head. “Itʼs just a stupid fight. I overheard Gil and his friends making fun of the undercity residents and butted in ‘cause they were getting really foul. Then when I was about to leave for the office, they egged me and said I could fit in the undercity now ‘cause that was what they smelled like. Then I insulted him and he punched me. So I punched back.” So Prompto got in trouble for fighting for him and his neighbors… 

Ignis sighed. “I didnʼt realize I should be thanking you for defending our honor. I only wish you hadnʼt gotten in trouble for it.” Someone was coming from the other end of the hallway. 

“Well, youʼre better people than most I know,” Prompto went on with his gripe. When those boots screeched against the clean floor, he finally turned his face upwards to discover his dark-haired friend tripping towards him. “Noct!” 

“Prompto!” Noct caught himself just before he barreled into his best friend. For the first time since Ignis had met the man, he had some color on his cheeks. “You okay? I told you to leave the fighting to me, youʼre better of in the arcades…” 

“Well, itʼs not like I didnʼt hit him back!” Prompto protested to his defense, then showed him his bruised right fist. “See!” 

“This is probably not the proper time and place to be boasting about such achievements, Prompto,” Ignis warned him. 

“All right, all right,” Noct clicked his tongue, checking out his best friend. “Huh? Whereʼs your bandana?” He spotted the number on his arm. 

“W, well, I donʼt wear it under my uniform…” 

Noct loosened his necktie and slipped it off his collar, batted Promptoʼs hand off his arm so he could wrap it along his tattoo, until it was covered. When the knot was secured, he clapped Prompto on his back. What was it about that tattoo that had to be hidden? 

“Thanks for coming, Ignis.” Noct tossed a hand to him. “Couldn’t think of anyone else to call.” 

“Iʼm glad you called me,” Ignis told him. “Now then, I think I better go. Iʼm quite late for work and I havenʼt had my lunch yet.” On cue, his stomach growled. Contrary to what the advertisers claimed, cup noodles did not make a full meal. 

“Yeah? Same here. Prompto, you hungry?” 

Prompto nodded, regaining a bit of himself. “As long as itʼs not eggs, Iʼm good!”

—

Promptoʼs brawl had a reprise as they made their way to the basement parking where Noctʼs impressive black car waited for them, as well as two of Gilʼs friends who had the misfortune of meeting Noct by the foot of the stairwell. Ignis had lagged behind to take a call from the office.

By the time he had arrived, Prompto was crying Noctʼs name just as a blue light flashed near the wall and danced towards the blonde man. 

When it had cleared, Noct was standing next to his best friend who laughed and bumped fists with him. As for the other two, somehow they had crumpled to the ground, as if for some reason, they charged at the wall and were met with quite the resistance. 

That moment of victory, whatever happened in it, lasted them all of 10 minutes. Now, they were stuck in the same traffic that had delayed Noctʼs rescue, just on a different side of the city. 

“Ahhh, Iʼm starving!!” Prompto cried from the passenger seat. As soon as he had dressed in Noctʼs spare clothes packed in the boot and had taken a bottle of potion, he was back to his usual self. “How much longer are we going to stay stuck here?!” 

“Tell me about it,” Noct groaned at the backseat. “Ignis, maybe we shouldnʼt have taken this turn, after all.” 

“Unfortunately, at this point, I think there are no other optimal routes to take,” Ignis sighed, busy with his phone. “Iʼm checking Shinra Map and everywhere looks red from where weʼre sitting. So I suggest we solve one problem at a time. Prompto,” he put his phone back in his jacket, “keep an eye on our right side. Iʼll drive us to the sidewalk until we find some place to pull over and eat.” 

“Sounds good!” 

It was hard work—between waiting for a crack in the traffic and the actual act of overtaking, it took them half an hour just to get to the right-side lane. And then just when Prompto had spotted the exit of a drive-thru, the engine banged, sputtered, and then died. 

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” Noct leaned out to check the flashing symbols with Ignis. “Seriously? At this day and age?” 

“I suppose even Shinra hasnʼt found a permanent solution to overheating yet,” Ignis sighed, punching the hazard switch as he unlocked his side of the door. “Noct, where is your early warning kit?” 

“Itʼs at the back, under the carpet. Let me get it for you—” 

“You can stay inside and call for help.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

As soon as he showed his face to the traffic, of course, Ignis became the subject for ire. One of the rare instances where he was glad he lived in the slums that didnʼt have enough space for roads _or_ cars for the populace. He turned a deaf ear to their noisy brays and honks while he lifted up the hood and fixed it onto its anchor. He made his way around the car from the back. 

“Hey, idiot, get back in the fucking car!” The driver at the tail end of their ride waved his fist through his window. “I got a show to catch, dammit!” 

Ignis shook his head for his loss as he opened the boot and pushed back the loaded organizer to get at the carpet. When he wasnʼt dignified with a response, the rude driver smashed his hand onto the steering wheel for the most outrageous blare of a horn Ignis had ever heard his whole life. 

He wished he hadnʼt appeared affected by it but the shock and the obnoxiousness had caused him to jump and slap his hands onto his ears. Ignis had every intention to ruin the manʼs day when he whirled at him with his teeth bared but someone had beaten him to it. 

He let out a loud, “ _Hey!_ ” and slammed his heavy hand three times on the rooftop which, for a man of his strength and size, would probably be deafening for the irritating driver who jumped behind the wheel in shock. “You wanna come out here and talk things out?” Ignis wondered if he should have been surprised to see the man in another chance encounter like this one. 

But maybe it was because he was getting used to his little surprises that when Gladio turned to face him with a wink, he only smiled and nodded his thanks.

—

What _did_ surprise him, though, was that Gladio wasnʼt the only Honeybee who came up for some fresh air. Cindy, too, was up there with them and had come to their rescue in her motherʼs towing truck.

Another surprise, though this time only for Ignis who was just now seeing this side of the glorious upper plate. Apparently, her mother managed their body shop in the upper plate in the same way that her grandfather managed his own junk shop down below. It was a case of the grandfather getting tired of the topsideʼs problems and choosing to live under. So the granddaughter split her free time between both worlds. As for Gladio, he was only there because heʼd asked to come along since he didnʼt have rehearsals that day. 

She shared it over lunch by the caravan that served as the engineersʼ resting area for long nights and early days. Theyʼd ordered pizza, fish and chips and some pasta to share. 

Now they sat with heavy stomachs and heavier eyelids around the cheap monobloc table. Ignis himself was having a difficult time keeping his mind present while he inspected the traffic situation from his phone. 

Heʼd nearly dropped it when Cindy gasped sharply at hers, hand on her mouth, back pulled up to full attention. “Gladio, do you know about this?” she asked him, showing him the news on her screen. “Apparently, Exoticaʼs been keeping refugees from Wutai in their basement. And then forcing them into sex work!” 

“No. Seriously?” Gladio took her phone to scroll through the article himself. 

“Whatʼs that now?” Ignis leaned towards the screen. 

“There was a ruckus in Wall Market early this morning,” Cindy began, leaning forward to the table. Prompto beside her did the same. “Turns out the police had stormed this strip club after a number of girls had escaped and reached them. Not the first time it happened but this oneʼll be big!” 

“Itʼs Savʼs bar,” Gladio informed Ignis when he handed the phone to him. “Remember Sav?” 

“Unfortunately,” Ignis sighed. “So he was being serious about those Wutai girls and boys—and got what was coming for him.” 

“But the funny thing is,” Cindy went on, a finger on her chin, “I heard that those girls didnʼt escape on their own. They said there was some feller who broke them out and took care of the guards for them.”

“Huh? So like,” Noct shrugged, slumped comfortably in his seat, “a vigilante?” 

“Looks like it, huh?” Cindy agreed, sitting back on her chair. “Mind yʼall, I didnʼt see everything myself. One of my roommatesʼ cousin works as a bartender there. But they said, the vigilante was wearing black all over.” 

“And he took care of the guards all on his own?” Prompto piped up. “Thatʼs crazy!” 

“Iʼm guessing heʼs still alive?” Ignis rejoined, handing Cindy her phone. 

“Probably black and blue all over,” Gladio raised. 

“Yeah,” Cindy answered. “The bartender says the security cam just caught him walking out with his hands in his pockets!” 

“Badass!” Prompto laughed, clapping his hands together. 

“Wonder whatʼs in it for him?” Noct mused out loud.

—

“So, you keepinʼ out of trouble yourself?”

Ignis laughed at the sudden question. “Please, if there is _anyone_ I should be asking that, itʼs you.” 

Gladio grinned with him, snickering in his breath. 

They left as soon as Noctʼs car had been fixed, first to the train station to drop Gladio off and then Ignis would return to the office for which he was already two hours late. 

“Do be careful, though,” Ignis went on, hooking his arm with Gladioʼs while both of his hands were in his leather jacketʼs pockets. “I mean that seriously. What happened to Exotica was well-deserved but it just proves how dangerous the slums truly are.” 

“Iʼll be careful, donʼt worry,” Gladio promised him with a private smile. “You, too, okay?” 

“Of course.” Ignis leaned himself closer to him. “Iʼm always careful.” 

The train station came sooner than he liked, but any longer out there and he probably wouldnʼt let the man go from his arm. His presence was always quite addictive for Ignis, whoʼd spent too long without anyone this warm and close to him. Was it a wonder how much of a fool he was willing to be? 

“Well, here you are,” Ignis sighed, facing him. “I do wish I could kiss you goodbye.” 

“Come kiss me goodbye later, then,” Gladio purred between them, letting the hint of a smirk tilt his lips upwards. “I get off at 9 later since I donʼt have a show. Wanna meet up?” _Meet up_ —because the last few times they kept using a certain 4-letter d-word (actually, Ignis would like one or the other of this), their plans never seem to work out. Like some hidden fate or whatever was playing with them. 

Ignis nodded without a secondʼs pause. “I would like that very much. Meet you at the front?” 

“Sounds great,” Gladio grinned. 

They did hug, though, but because Ignis was selfish, he caught Gladioʼs right just as he was about to leave so he could press his lips to the back of his fist—

“Gladio, what happened here!” Ignis had become distracted by the blushing lines around his knuckles, something heʼd completely missed earlier. 

It took a beat before Gladio reacted, “Oh, ow, what did happen there?” Ignis couldnʼt believe it. 

He stared up at him. “You didnʼt know?” 

Gladio raised his brow at that accusation. “Do you remember all your bruises?” 

“Of course I do, what sort of a question is that?” Though after saying that, Ignis was pretty sure that was a lie. He was only human for all his brilliant acumen, after all. And he had been fighting since he was young, getting into situations where he thought he only hit his fist until he saw the flowers along his arm the next day. Gladio would surely have the same experience. 

“Well, I donʼt,” Gladio replied, retrieving his hand while Ignis was distracted. “Itʼs probably from the gym. Might have hit the punching bag too hard or something.” Really? 

A trained fighter like him? Ignis stared at him with the same question lingering in his gaze. “Well, whatever the case, if that is so, then be mindful of yourself.” Ignis reclaimed the injured fist to run his fingers gently over his knuckles. “You shouldnʼt push yourself for the sake of vanity.” 

“Vanity?” Gladio clicked his tongue. “Yeah, I know, I get it now.” Gladio touched him lightly by the crook of his neck. “I got someone else worryinʼ about me now. That I donʼt wanna worry.” 

“You would do well to remember that,” Ignis told him. 

After one last hug, they finally said goodbye. Ignis lingered out there to watch him disappear into the station. 

And then he was off to the office, the sound of his own thoughts his new companion. He still found it off, there was no way he could have injured himself on a wrong strike with a bag that didnʼt fight back… 

Did he get into a fight like Prompto?

—

He ended up staying much longer in the office to make up for those hours he was outside, but this time his little get-together with his boyfriend worked perfectly to his advantage. If they were meeting at 9-ish, that meant he had time to burn.

So when much of the Urban Planning Division had gone home for the day, Ignis switched off his own laptop and immersed himself with his phone. With Promptoʼs situation, the thing about the car and then Gladioʼs company, Ignis hadnʼt had time to think about everything heʼd heard that day. 

Now he did. Too bad he couldnʼt remember every word from Ferroʼs angry speech but he _could_ remember that one of his businesses had closed down. What were the chances that another, separate business would close down in the same day? 

_Could it be?_ Ignis mused to himself as he typed in the strip clubʼs name to the search engine and browsed through the headlines. But that young man that had laid on the table for Ferro, he was supposed to be from Wutai, as well… 

_18 Arrested in Illegal Prostitution in Wall Market_

_Closing Time: Wall Market Bar Closed Due to Sex Trafficking_

_‘We Were Forcedʼ: Wutai Refugees Tell All_

_Businesses, Politicians Among Clientele of Illegal Wall Market Bar_

_Morie Camp Denies Link With Wall Market Club_ Wait—Morie? 

“Morie…” Ignis tasted the name in his mouth so he could remember where heʼd heard it. It was at night, and quite recent. Sometime…sometime last week? 

“Claymore,” Ignis hissed, eyes growing at the connection. He couldnʼt be mistaken, he knew he heard the name from one of his assailantsʼ lips before they left him for Ignis to take away. Before that, the man was declared innocent from something that was related to drugs. 

So did they know each other? Claymore and Morie? Did one work for the other? 

He tapped the link. It was a short article, written mostly to contain Morieʼs lawyerʼs statement that while the land on which Exotica stood used to belong to Morie, it had been sold to another buyer years ago. 

There were more headlines linked at the bottom of the page, including one that led to several photos and videos from social media. 

Ignis scrolled through them. The police raid must have caused quite a ruckus to invite a meddling crowd. And the police did nothing to discourage them—probably because it made them look good. 

“Gladio missed all this?” he asked himself browsing on. Gladio didnʼt say anything about it until Cindy had, so Ignis assumed it hadnʼt left him an impression. He must have slept through this, he thought. 

There were several shots taken from the same angle, focusing on the stream of disheveled refugees hidden behind face masks, escaping from a back door. Ignis couldnʼt see Sav…or Morie for that instance. 

So who were the 18 people arrested? Did this happen after the fact? Ignis went to his Lifestrm app to search for any coverage there. 

He found a treasure hold of unfiltered images—the really shaky ones which hardly showed him anything, the ones from a far distance, those across of the crowd, near where the police lingered so as far as a scoop was concerned, there were only a few to be had here. 

A video of a handful of cuffed men dipping into a police car came from the same side, the camera turning its back to the brothel as it followed their dismal progress. Faces gray, forms twisted by discomfort, they were topless, shirtless under a vest, or otherwise in a wifebeater. It had only been posted an hour ago, which was probably why it hadnʼt made the more popular news sites yet. 

The door slammed shut and the car drove off. The tall man in the crowd who had been hidden until then leapt at him like a ghost from a nightmare. Dark cap, visor obscuring his eyes, dark hoodie, hands pocketed…a black bag strapped along his shoulders, taller than him and wider than his head. 

Ignisʼ fingers felt cold when he pressed his fist on his lips to silence his shock. How was this possible? No, he _knew_ how this was possible but…why? Really? _Why?_

When the crowd started to disperse, he went with them, dipping his head low, tilting his cap down to hide his face. 

Ignis replayed it over and over again until he could snap a screenshot of the manʼs clearest moment. With his arms and face covered completely, there was no saying it was _him_. But Ignis had seen him in the same clothes, the same stance. 

Those bruised knuckles, he lied to him about them. Like Prompto, he got into a fight. 

The vigilante, the mysterious man with a greatsword…could they both be the same man? 

What were the chances? Ignis exhaled as he grasped his forehead in his shock. What were the chances that there were two vigilantes with two different greatswords closing two different businesses on the same day? But if that was the case, then when Ferro said his acquaintance failed to finish the job… 

Ignis shook his head, straightened up and searched for his vigilante in other videos and pictures. He was overthinking this, he was getting worked up on pure conjecture. _Baseless_ conjecture! 

Claymore Aquila was acquainted with Morie and Gladio had asked him how he knew of that name Claymore… 

Ignis put down his phone and raised his woven fist to his lips. What if it wasnʼt baseless? What if…? 

He slammed his drawers shut as he locked them up and escaped with his bag. Gladio would never tell him the whole truth. At least not by his own mind. 

So it was up to Ignis to convince him.

—

He made a plan—a risky plan—while he was on the train on his way to the Sector 5 slums. He would find out what Gladio had been up to during the police operation, he would see if he had other bruises hidden by that ridiculous hoodie of his. If he was black and blue like Gladio said. And maybe if things went well, he would ask him about Claymore Aquila and even Morie.

But one step at a time. First was catching the suspect off-guard. 

“Ignis!” 

Or _not_ being caught off-guard. 

It was one thing to lay down a strategy when you werenʼt looking at the mark in the face, after all. And completely another when he wasnʼt blinding you with his gorgeous smile and waving for your attention like a puppy with his tail. 

Which was exactly what Gladio did when he came out of the nightclub, arm in arm with the blonde Honeygirl with glittery nails. After a final note from her, he kissed her cheek, parted from her then hurried over to Ignis. 

Ignis had barely greeted him when he enclosed his great arms around him, as if they hadnʼt seen each other earlier in the day. It amused him, bringing his own arms around his back. He smelled like berries, mint and soft lavender. 

“I feel like ants are going to crawl all over you if I keep my eyes off you,” he giggled, combing his fingers through Gladioʼs hair. Heʼd completely foregone the cap now, and the hoodie while he was at it, sticking with the same leather jacket from that afternoon. Ignis couldnʼt help but wonder, though, if this had anything to do with what happened at Exotica. 

“Why? ‘cause Iʼm too damn sweet?” Gladio beamed insolently. 

“Because you smell like dessert,” Ignis replied, which was both an innuendo and an honest observation. Either way, it had Gladio laughing. He drew himself to his boyfriendʼs jacketʼs lapel to sniff him closely. “And thanks to you, I smell like it now, too.” 

“Angelaʼs girlfriend likes her perfume so she sprays it all over,” Gladio explained, glancing back to the two women with both their hands swinging left and right. “Sheʼs a veteran. Worked her way to the top and now sheʼs our dance captain so no one has the guts to tell her to tone it down.” 

“Then I suppose Iʼll just have to live with it myself,” Ignis said. He slipped his arms off Gladioʼs waist so he could find his injured hand again. “If I were a more jealous boyfriend, I would have stabbed you right here and now.” 

“Who cares about due process, huh?” Gladio chuckled. 

“Is it much better now?” From Ignisʼ perspective, Gladioʼs knuckles had greatly improved. If this had been the hand that he saw earlier, he would not have suspected his boyfriend of getting involved with Exotica. He wondered if Gladio had the same idea when he applied something to his hand. He ran his thumb tenderly over the bones. 

Gladio trapped his touching hand with his other one, so he could squeeze it. “Yeah, itʼs gone down.” Those amber eyes were watching him closely when he looked up to them. Talk about breathtaking. “No need to worry yourself over it.” 

“Iʼm glad.” Truly, he was. 

“Ya hungry?” Gladio pulled him closer by the waist, leading them away from the nightclub. 

“Certainly, I havenʼt had dinner yet,” Ignis told him, putting his own arm around his back. “Iʼd like something different tonight.” 

“Right, let me think of something.” 

“I also want to look at Exotica,” Ignis added quickly. “I never realized that it made quite the news and now Iʼm curious.” Would Gladio refuse? 

“Yeah?” Gladioʼs smile was bright. “Guess itʼs just like you to be. Cʼmon Iʼll take ya.” No guilty looks, no stammers, no excuses. Innocent, or disaffected? 

There was nothing to be seen in that part of Wall Market now. The doorstep hawkers were still as lively as ever but there was a vacuum where Savʼs territory stood, once pink with lights, now cold and dark. Even the man was absent. 

Ignis wouldnʼt say that he missed it but there was something unsettling about a dead pocket in an otherwise lively street. Like it was cursed by ghosts or something. 

“Where were you when this happened?” he asked his boyfriend when he pulled them away. That would have been a clear interrogation if Ignis hadnʼt played a softer, sweeter tone in his question. 

“In my room, sleeping like the dead,” Gladio laughed. He stopped them at an intersection and led them to the pathway leading left. “I didnʼt find out about it until I came out to eat and my housemates were talking all about it. But things like this happen a lot,” that was what Cindy said, “so I thought it was just normal stuff.” 

They came by a place called _Costa del Grill_ and met one of the cooks managing the place who turned out to be another one of Gladioʼs friends when he used to drop by regularly. For that, he had the honor of ordering for their date, meat and chips and beer and all. 

“Thought you didnʼt like drinking when you got work tomorrow?” Gladio poured him another bottle. 

“Please, Iʼm no prude,” Ignis chuckled, raising his mug to thank him before he set it back down beside his plate. “Besides, itʼs just beer. Itʼs the cocktails and the girly drinks that your nightclub serves thatʼs quite dangerous.” He finished off his third stick of Chocobo gizzards. “Wonʼt you take off your jacket? You look a little uncomfortable in this heat.” 

“Nice try,” Gladio laughed, putting down his own empty mug. Ignis took it upon him to refill it to the brim. “I know you miss these old girls.” For which he flexed his biceps and kissed the hill hidden by his sleeve. Ignis rolled his eyes though his amusement was ever-present. “But nah, Iʼm good. I donʼt like exposing my arms after my shift. Itʼs just good practice for muscle health, yʼknow?” Indeed, it was. 

Ignis covered his disappointed huff with a smile and a nod. Foiled once again. If there was anything to foil in the first place, that is. If there wasnʼt, then that was well and good. That meant he had wasted his time worrying about nothing. But if there _was_ just cause for it…

The thing was that Ignis couldnʼt deny everything heʼd heard or seen. Someone else may have dismissed them as delusions but he was _Ignis Scientia_ , he didnʼt do delusional! 

That meant he couldnʼt let Gladio go so easily. Ignis watched him from behind his full mug, waving a waitress over to guide her to their table. If his boyfriend would refuse to show him his arms, then he would just have to put him in a situation where he had to.

—

“You said you didnʼt get drunk over beer!” Gladio cracked up.

“I _donʼt_ ,” Ignis insisted. “Iʼm just a little red.” 

“And unsteady.” 

“Why should I walk on my own two feet when I can just lean on you?” 

“Ooh, 1 point for Ignis Scientia.” 

Ignis drew a wide smile on his face for it, which he hoped made him a convincing enough drunk but that was what the actors did, wasnʼt it? But for the most part, it was working—heʼd completely convinced Gladio that he was a lightweight who couldnʼt be left to his own devices for long. 

“Up and at it.”

“I havenʼt kissed you goodbye yet,” Ignis reminded him with a little sulking voice as he found his place at the right side of the Chocobo carriage. He did love having an impressive memory. 

“I know, I know,” Gladio assured him, and to Ignisʼ thrill, joined him at the other side of the coach. They still had a ways to go but they were at least getting somewhere. 

He gave the signal for the coachman to go with a rap on the ceiling. Meanwhile, Ignis took his rightful place next to him and snuggled up to his arm, snaking his own around so he could twine their fingers together and squeeze. Gladio laughed. No jumping or grunting in pain whatsoever. He was either out of pain or really good at hiding it. 

For the rest of the trip, that was what he did—played the silly drunk so he could attach himself to Gladio without rationality, try to eke out whatever kind of pain he might be hiding in him. It did occur to him while they were on the train that Gladio had taken some curatives or painkillers to make his injuries more manageable, but if pressed, a fresh bruise would still ache, right? 

By the time he had managed to extract Gladio from the Sector 7 undercity platform, he dropped the drunk act all over and played the tired worker instead. 

“You sober now?” Gladio asked him, since heʼd started to walk without leaning onto him. 

Ignis nodded. “Perhaps I should have had more to drink.” He smiled at his boyfriend who snorted. “I would have been happy for you to carry me onto my bed.” 

“Givinʼ me ideas?” Gladio flashed him a grin. “Yʼknow, youʼre heavier than you look.” 

“Indeed?” Like a vain teen criticized for his size, Ignis sighed in disappointment. “It must be all the brain weight.” He had to direct a sharp elbow on Gladioʼs side when the man let out a single great _ha!_ at his ego boost. 

If anything, this journey home at least spoiled him with his boyfriendʼs presence—his little smiles, his deep voice, the sweet way he kept him close and checked in on him, making him feel giddy and wish he was drunk forever. Even though theyʼd all been born from the lie that Ignis couldnʼt take care of himself after a few bottles. Maybe a weaker man would have felt guilty for playing tricks on him but Ignis had since outgrown such sentiment. 

Also, they were finally at his apartment. And now, the butterflies he didnʼt know heʼd been hiding had been let loose and he could feel them fluttering all about his stomach and his chest. How funny that when he came upon his battle plan, he executed its leading steps with clinical determination. Now that he was actually so close to the culmination of it… 

“Sure you can make it home on your own?” 

“Yes,” Ignis said, though he still didnʼt let go of his boyfriendʼs hand and Gladio wasnʼt pulling away either. “Thank you again for being such a gentleman.” 

“Hey, Iʼm your boyfriend, ainʼt I?” Gladio tossed in a wink with that. “I gotta take care of you.” 

“You do spoil me,” Ignis sighed. They were at the stairwell now from which he gazed up to his unit. A few more steps and then… 

“G, Gladio,” he returned to him, “w, would you…like to come up with me for a breather?” 

He thought Gladioʼs eyes might have widened a bit as they searched him. His lips parted, but he said nothing. 

He took the first step, though, and Ignis followed, taking his cue to lead him up the steps which sounded like they were going to give with his and Gladioʼs combined weight. As he unlocked the door, he caught Gladio looking furtively at his billfold, and pretended he didnʼt see him taking something out to put into his back pocket. 

They stepped through the door, into the empty room—which was dark. 

That was the first mistake Ignis neglected to account for—if it was dark, he wouldnʼt be able to see well. Too late to back out, heʼd already set the lock and Gladio was already inside, dropping his gym bag to the floor. 

“Let me just get the lights.” Ignis reached for the switch next to the door—

“Itʼs fine.” Gladio caught him before he could even feel the switch. His hand was gentle around the wrist but he may as well have yanked him back and achieved the same effect. Ignis couldnʼt fight him off when he guided him away from the door, and then trapped him in his arms, close enough for him to press onto the shape between his legs. Ignis caught his breath and let his own bag slip to his feet. “I donʼt need the light to kiss you goodbye.” 

“I want to see you.” 

“So look at me.” 

Not his point but Ignis couldnʼt not do it. There was still some light to just make out his outline and catch the luster of his eyes. He raised his hand as if to touch it but felt the softness of Gladioʼs locks between his fingers instead. 

“Where did you get your eyes?” he whispered stupidly. 

“My dad said itʼs a recessive trait,” Gladio chuckled. 

Their lips met, and Ignis knew he had lost the game when he darted his tongue through their teeth and felt the warm cavern of Gladioʼs mouth. It made sense that the seduction trick would only work if he wasnʼt hungry, famished, _dying_ for a real man and now here was one, in his arms, his hands, grinding him between his legs. 

Ignis let out the most pitiful moan when Gladio bit his neck and grabbed his ass. It was too much for his starved senses and it was all he could do to hang on to Gladio when he lifted him off his feet and dumped him unceremoniously onto his bed. His glasses had gotten skewed in the process. 

He slipped them off just in time to catch Gladioʼs silhouette slipping off his jacket. Well, that part of the plan worked. 

“Gladio,” he gasped. Ignis reached for him again and received him in his mouth. Gladioʼs tongue filled him with eager laps, distracting him from the swift hand that released his belt and pulled down his bottoms. 

Like a worm riding a wave, Ignis wriggled out of them until Gladio could pitch them like a useless rag onto the floor along with the tumbling of his shoes. He tried to follow their trajectory but theyʼd gotten lost in the shadows. 

And there was the sound of Gladioʼs own zipper sliding down, the ringing of his belt buckle as he shoved down his pants—

Ignis was like an animal when he cupped him in his underwear. Wouldnʼt even wait for Gladio to do the honors when he pulled him out of the fabric and stroked his sleek shaft from the base to the tip. Gladio groaned at his touch. He was wet and long and _thick_ and half-hard. Planet help him take him. 

“Gladio—” Ignis gurgled again before Gladio consumed him with another kiss, swatting off his hand so he could finally peel his underwear. He fought free from his stifling kiss so he could gasp for air and snarl, “Wonʼt you just turn on the damn lights already?” 

“Scared of the dark?” Gladio chuckled. Something tore in the air like paper. 

“Whatʼs the use of getting naked when I canʼt see you?” Ignis snapped, grasping for the straps of his tank top to pull him. That made Gladio laugh. “I want to see how big you are!” 

“Youʼll find out soon enough,” Gladio promised him. “Open wide.” Would he feed him his dick? 

Ignis opened his mouth readily. 

He would never have expected to be grateful of the darkness when a thick finger pierced his asshole instead and slipped through with ease. So _thatʼs_ what he meant by open wide. Ignis cried out a note before he clamped down his lips and groaned out the rest of his exclamation. This was a bad place to be getting fucked, he was smack dab in the middle of two other units who could hear every sound he made. Despite that, he couldnʼt stop moaning like a virgin on his first night. 

“You’re used to this, arenʼt you?” Gladio had the gall to laugh deeply. He was contracting around his finger and chasing after it but every damn time he thought he might catch him, Gladio would pull back at the last minute. Ignis felt like sobbing in frustration when his free hand finally pushed him down his hips to restrain him. He pulled at Gladio again. “Should I just get right into it?” 

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Ignis growled. 

“Could hurt if we ainʼt careful.” 

“Now youʼre just hurting my feelings.” 

Gladio cackled again. “And youʼre really turning me on now.” 

His mouth smothered him again and Ignis kissed back. Eager hands raked at Gladioʼs shirt to get it off until the man pushed him off with his shoulders when he got up. His belt buckle rang in the silence again, followed by the hiss of leather. 

Ignisʼ heart and cock jumped when he realized what he meant to do. “Gladio—” He sat up when Gladio carried his shoulders off the bed. 

So he could pull his necktie free and rip his shirt open, literally, until he could tear it free from his arms with his blazer. Gladio kissed him again with his mouth, forcing him back down to his pillow even as Ignis kicked and tried to fight free from the hands around his wrists.

He only pulled away when Ignis was gasping for breath, dazed enough to let him bring his wrists to his bedpost where he bound them with his belt. Ignis hissed out a curse in alarm, fighting against the leather too late. His cock twitched with the racing of his heart. 

“Gladio?” he moaned almost piteously. 

Gladio breathed out, then started to laugh. “Now,” rough hands explored the swells of his pecs and his abdomen, exciting Ignis with want, “where were we?” No one has ever touched him like this in ages. 

His mouth was back where Ignis wanted it, and so were his fingers, two of them now, easing their way in his trembling passage and forcing out a cry within their kiss. Gladioʼs other hand scaled him up and down his side. His toes curled, his cock stirred. 

He couldnʼt believe how much this was turning him on, and this was just his hands at work. Ignis danced with Gladioʼs tongue in his mouth, swaying his hips to the rhythm of the sleek fingers that fucked him and scissored him wider while Gladio tugged on one of his nipples. He felt satisfyingly full and wet and hard between his legs but it wasnʼt enough. He wanted more but Gladio was holding back. 

He whispered his name when he broke from his lips, licking them just as Gladio had finally retrieved his fingers. At the telltale sound of the foil tearing open, Ignis lifted his knees to his shoulders. 

Gladio didnʼt wait too long to press his weight down on him and slip himself through Ignisʼ entrance, the heat of his head sparking a fire in his guts that stunned him into a tight gasp. Gladio grabbed himself two handfuls of ass so he could work his way deeper. Ignis cried out a tight whine, then bit his lip to silence the rest of it. 

“Shit, Ignis,” Gladio groaned, his swollen cock twitching inside him. Ignis tightened his walls around his flesh and bucked his hips, willing his boyfriend further. “Fuck, youʼre so tight!” 

“Donʼt let that stop you,” Ignis hissed, watching his silhouette. 

He both heard and felt Gladio laugh. “Oh, Iʼm just getting started.” Bracing his hands on the back of Ignisʼ thighs, he started to pull back and push into him. 

And it was more than Ignis could do to keep his moan to himself as Gladio dug his way in. His balls felt tighter for every inch of him he swallowed with his eager ass. “ _Yes_ ,” he breathed, face pinched with the pain and the pleasure of being sawed open. “Almost there, almost there…” 

Gladioʼs first triumph was marked by another startled gasp as Ignis bucked his hips high enough for his cock to brush his shirt. He pushed knees higher, shifted a little on his own as he pulled out, almost to the tip so he could ram himself straight into Ignisʼ prostate. 

If he made a noise, Ignis couldnʼt tell anymore. Whatever came of this night was something the future him would have to deal with on his own. Ignis was pretty sure he cried Gladioʼs name one way or another but Gladio only responded by fucking him harder the wider and deeper heʼd gouged into him. He tried to push back for every time he hit him in his sweet core but between Gladioʼs weight and relentless motions, it was getting harder enough to even just _breathe_. 

The most he could do, then, was to moan his name over and over again, faster when Gladio picked up the pace and pounded harder into his pliant walls. With his length and swollen girth, Ignis had no escape from him. 

He mewled out his name, desperately squeezing him from the inside but he was already too soft and aroused to capture him. His ragged pants, Gladioʼs hot breath on his face, the squeaking of his bed and their slapping flesh was all he could hear and all he could think of. 

“Gladio,” he groaned, leaking pre-cum through his sensitive slit. He felt heavy and raw between his folded legs. “Iʼm so close…Iʼm so, so close!” 

“Donʼt come yet,” Gladio snarled, pummeling into him faster, fingernails digging into the muscles of his legs where he held him down. “Ignis, donʼt co…d, donʼt co…m, me…!” His once-steady rhythm began to spasm into erratic beats. 

Ignis started when Gladio hit him hard on his prostate as the man spent himself inside him. He made a whimpering noise as he tried to pump him dry with his muscles but even his own body had betrayed him and preferred only to be fucked like a doll. 

When Gladio was done, it took some time for him to get back to his own senses and his breathing before he pulled out, and finally put down Ignisʼ legs back on his bed. His knees felt tired from carrying Gladioʼs weight. 

A teasing finger slid up the sensitive stitch under the Ignisʼ rigid flesh, causing him to jump and twist against his restraint. Gladio must still be on his knees when he scooped up his seeds and sucked it clean from his finger, releasing it with a pop. Ignis twitched at the sound, leaking more for it. 

“Gladio, please,” Ignis whispered, trying his wrists again. “Please let me come, Iʼm so hard.” 

“No one told you to beg but damn if you donʼt sound good doing it,” Gladio cackled. He pressed his finger onto his soft slit. 

Ignis whined, almost tearing up at the injustice of his teases and pushing his hips up. Gladio caught him by his hip bone and forced his ass back down the bed. “Please.” His cock twitched again, too used to immediate satisfaction to endure this. “Please, Gladio.” 

“Weʼre gonna play this game better one day,” Gladio rumbled. “Weʼll see how long you can beg until you come undone.” With his other hand, he grasped him by the base of his wet dick and squeezed him just lightly, causing Ignis to mewl pathetically. Then he took him in his mouth and proceeded to suck him off. 

If it hadnʼt been for Ignisʼ iron will, he might have screamed out loud for all of Midgar to hear, instead of trapping his plea between his teeth. He was already so sensitive and full and here was Gladio polishing him with his wicked tongue and pulling his lips along his shaft. With his hands, he massaged his heavy fruits and stroked him up and down his base. 

Before he swallowed him up whole, humming in his mouth until Ignis felt Gladioʼs throat enclose around his glans. 

That was all the encouragement Ignis needed to lose himself with a silent cry and fill Gladio with his release. He wanted to jump and fuck the manʼs mouth until he was empty but Gladio had trapped his trembling hips with both of his hands so he could suck and swallow him in peace. Ignis might have whimpered his boyfriendʼs name before he bit his lip. 

His vision was full of stars by the time Gladio had finally let him go, and even when he was freed from his bonds, Ignis could do nothing but to moan and rest. 

He listened to Gladio walk around for a few seconds, toss something to the trash bin under his desk, then pull up his zipper and slip on his belt. The sound of fabric on skin filled the room next. 

He was back on his bedside before long, touching his cheek with a gentle hand. It made Ignis smile and lean into it, as if he hadnʼt been tied up and edged on their first night together. “You feelinʼ okay?” Gladio croaked. 

“Yes,” Ignis sighed out in bliss, putting his own hand atop Gladioʼs. “You hit me on all the right notes. Iʼm satisfied beyond words.” It was his wet dream come true and exceeded. “I only wish you could stay.” 

“Weʼll fuck longer next time,” Gladio promised him with a low chuckle. “And Iʼm hoping soon. I gotta watch you begging me.” A sentiment Ignis could share. He would beg if what awaited was sweet satisfaction. 

They kissed again, tenderly on the lips. Finally, Gladio got up to his feet. “Sorry, could I ask you to get the door?” Oh, of course. There was the business of seeing him off. How terrible. 

Ignis was too lazy, though. Between getting dicked down and coming hard enough to forget his name, he wasnʼt inclined to get off his bed. “I have a spare key taped at the top of my closet.” Gladio got up, then. “Just give it back to me tomorrow.” 

He heard the hinges creak as the door whined open, and then close. “I got it,” Gladio told him, approaching him again. “I gotta go now before I miss the train.” 

“Let me kiss you goodbye, then.” Ignis got up carefully to sit. Already, he could feel a little sore around his ass. Their lips met, and parted open so they could each give their tongues one last caress to taste. 

Gladio pressed another kiss on his crown before he started off to the door. Blue light spilled briefly onto Ignisʼ floor when he pulled it open and stepped out. He gave his boyfriend a final wave. 

And then he disappeared behind the door, and locked it. 

Ignis could finally break out his grin as he laid back down his pillow and giggled, hiding his blushing face in his hands. He might not have gotten the answers he was looking for but did it still matter? He got something else that he wanted. Desperately. This was no losing situation. 

He wanted to do it again, he decided, tucking himself under his blanket. Maybe next time, he could even beg Gladio to fondle his buttocks. How silly. 

Ignis curled up under his covers, pulling off his socks and hugging his knees to contain his glee. What were the chances he could come up with another foolish plan that would fail at the last minute?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not strong enough to write prompto's story!!! ;;;o;;;
> 
> also why do i keep writing long chapters sigh
> 
> thank you for your continued patronage!! 💕💕💕


	11. Chapter 11

_Slept well last night?_ Cheeky. 

Ignis was just on his way back to the office from a solo lunch out when Gladioʼs message came through. With a tiny short, he tapped out a reply to his boyfriend. 

_Fairly decently. I would have slept better in your arms, though._

_Let's make it a date then._ Gladio smiled. _Let's get a room and do it all night. I missed you in bed too…_ It was just like him to say that. 

But after last night, Ignis knew there was a different meaning to his words by now. On this rare occasion, Ignis was the blushing boy who couldnʼt restrain his smile even when he bit his tender lips and distracted himself with the sights of the upper plate in a mundane afternoon. Or tried to, but the memories of Gladioʼs mouth and his dick inside him were stronger than any utopia Shinra could sculpt for them. 

_Don't use that word again, it may never come true,_ Ignis teased him. _I want a room with windows so I can see you even when it's dark._

_Me? Or my…_ He winked. 

Tease. They both knew what it was Ignis really wanted to see but he wouldnʼt be the first to admit it. He had to eat his smile off his face as he neared the building entrance where he would soon catch familiar faces who knew nothing of his private life. _Your…smile?_

_And?_

_Eyes,_ Ignis persisted. He caught Reeve and Ana on their way out, the woman with a phone on her ear and panic in her voice, as if their rideshare was going to ditch them if they didnʼt come out right that minute. He bowed to them briefly. _I love your eyes, Gladio Hester._

_Aw, thanks_ Gladio marked that with a winking face that kissed—or blew a kiss, whatever that heart symbol near its lips was meant to be. _Hey help me out here, am doing a crossword puzzle and I'm stumped. What's a 5 letter word that starts with a P?_

Heads turned when Ignis cracked up suddenly. He caught himself too late with his hand on his lips, bowed and escaped to the menʼs room. How embarrassing! 

_You just made me laugh in a lobby full of people, I hope you're happy,_ Ignis couldnʼt find it in him to be mad, though. He was a fool, especially for Gladio, but not so much that he would be blind to an inside joke and one that he was partly to blame for. 

_You're welcome._ Gladio winked again. _Seriously though how are your wrists_

Ignis inspected them under his cuffs. They were bruised, his left one more than his right. An ugly sight for those who wouldnʼt appreciate what went down for them, of which Ignis was not one. He should feel strange when he struggled to contain his smile for them, he thought, but who cares? Everyone in Shinra had their own kinks. 

_Bruised but not painful,_ he told Gladio. He checked the time—10 minutes until his break time was over. Ignis marched out of the restroom. _I feel sore between my legs, though._

_Too much force? Sorry I thought you could handle it_

_I forgive you. Make it up to me next time, won't you?_

_OK. You're the boss ignis._ Another wink. And for a second there, he remembered that last wet dream he had of Gladio on his knees, bound and waiting for Ignisʼ come to dress him. 

_I have to get back to work,_ Ignis told him (and himself) on the way to the lift. _Talk to you later._ He exited their conversation and pulled up his and Promptoʼs for his first instructions for the day. _How was your lunch with Noct? Please bring my laptop and some brewed coffee to M2. You may bring along your notebook for the meeting if you so prefer. Iʼll be there in 5 minutes._

Prompto replied just as he stepped out of the elevator, _k im judy bsthroom._ He was who now? 

Ignis stopped at the confusing reply and frowned at the direction of the menʼs room. Two seconds was all it took for him to decide to check it out. In any case, a quick visit to the lavatory would be prudent so that he wouldnʼt have to sneak out of the meeting room at an inconvenient time. 

He pushed the door open, searching the room curiously for—

“ _Prompto!_ ” His voice filled the menʼs room in striking echoes when he dashed for the younger man sitting atop the sink counter, trapped between the wall and Senior Manager Ferro who had been leaning too close to his face while he dabbed a tissue on his lip wound. 

“Ignis!” The distraction was all Prompto needed to catch the Shinra executive off-guard so he could hop off and nudge him back to stumble towards his friend. 

Ignis stood between him and the suspicious man who tossed a folded tissue to the trash bin, blocking his path to Prompto with his tensed arms. “Sir, I think you ought to leave,” he warned him. 

“Why, Mr. Scientia.” Ferro spread his hands to shrug. “Thereʼs no need to get worked up, I was only ensuring that we as a company are providing our intern the utmost care—” 

“There is _no_ rational explanation to this, Sir!” Ignis cut him off with a sharp protest. Should he stare or should he glare? He was already shifting his feet, though, in a position that would give him the best advantage to attack if he had to. “If we must absolutely secure a doctorʼs certificate for his capacity to work, then I think you should have approached me first so that I may take him to the clinic. Please do not forget that I am his supervisor and he is my responsibility.” Was that a threat? It was a soft threat. Maybe. “There is no need for you to trouble yourself with my intern,” he went on anyway. 

He couldnʼt describe the look on Ferroʼs face. The smile was still perfectly intact but the shift in his eyes had caused Ignis to shuffle backwards an inch. He remembered his level voice despite his discontent with the prostitute in the meeting room. 

If he would attack, it would be now or never. Ignis mapped out his open guard. He had to make this look completely like self-defense—

“Of course.” Again with that look of kindness, wrought purely from understanding and an infallible position in the company. “Please forgive me, I may have overstepped my boundaries.” He bowed. May! Well, thatʼs rich. “In this case, I should take my leave, then. Have a good day.” 

Ignis didnʼt budge until the threat had passed and Ferro had left the menʼs room. After counting to five, he bounded for the door to push it shut, lock it, and then hurried back to the stunned Prompto, heels squeaking against the polished tiles. 

“Are you quite all right?” He grasped the younger man by the sleeves of his blazer. Prompto looked white, his blue eyes standing out like a pair of materia when he stared back at Ignis. “Did he hurt you, did he…did he touch you anywhere inappropriate?” 

“N, no, he was just…” Prompto tried to laugh but faltered before he could even manage a beat. “H, he was just being really close. And, and, and he was saying things.” 

“What things?” 

“My freckles, m, my,” Prompto gulped, “v, voice…” 

“Has he always spoken of them?” 

“Just now,” Prompto mumbled, head moving slightly when he tried to shake it. “Used to be…it used to be he was just asking about school, my hobbies, my favorite food…what I did at home…i, if I was alone…” Growing more and more suspect than the last. 

Ignis hung his head low. The fact that heʼd let things get this far…and yet if he was any second later… 

“My apologies, Prompto…” he sighed, looking his friend in the eye. “I, I should have acted sooner. I knew he was dangerous but I never expected that he would…be so bold as to approach you in this manner.” Did it have something to do with Exotica? Had he lost contact with his prostitute from Wutai? Did that let him loose? 

“But you _are_ here, Ignis.” Those blue eyes fell. “And I guess I shouldʼve been smarter…” 

“There is no sense blaming yourself for attracting a predator, Prompto.” Ignis gripped him firmly by his shoulder. “He took advantage of you because he thought he could get away with it. You didnʼt come here for an internship with the intention to be preyed upon.” 

Prompto tried to smile at his words of encouragement. “Hey…how _did_ you know?” 

“That you were here?” 

Prompto glanced off the side. “Or heʼs that kinda guy…” 

Ignis exhaled quietly. “I saw and heard things I shouldnʼt have. Which is why I lied to you about coming in in my company or Noctʼs. I didnʼt want to give him an opportunity to catch you on your own. And yet…” He pulled out his phone and revealed Promptoʼs text. “I received this.” 

From the size of Promptoʼs look, he could tell that his friend hadnʼt meant to send such a suspicious message. So Noct was right on that part, as well. “Noct told me that you werenʼt likely to ask for help. So I decided to take the initiative and look in on you.” He offered a little smile. “Iʼm glad I did.” 

Prompto only nodded for that. Poor guy, he never asked for any of this… 

For whatever it was worth, he clapped him gently on his arm. “Why donʼt you go home for the day?” he posed, catching his round-eyed look again. “In fact…I was thinking perhaps it isnʼt safe for you to continue your internship here.”

“But—” 

“Iʼll take care of Ms. Wallis and your grades.” Ignis offered another smile. “Perhaps, instead…we could make you a project where you must take pictures of…infrastructures. Public spaces. Whatever wonʼt require you to come here anymore.” He should have thought about that sooner. And yet he had to put Prompto in this situation before he could come up with that plan. What a good supervisor and friend he was. 

After some quiet thoughts, Prompto finally nodded to that proposal. “I…guess thatʼs cool.” He tried to look positive for it, though it was clear that he still felt uneasy for this…for whatever had happened to him.

—

_Can we meet later?_

_Sure I gotta give you back your keys right? What's up_

_Nothing, I just want to see you. I'll meet you out the front as always._

Ignis couldnʼt count the number of times heʼd read back on his and Gladioʼs chat, or more like stared at it while he waited for his boyfriend to get off work. Before that, he tried to waste as much time around Wall Market as he could, even had desserts and coffee in the bean shop he and Gladio first went to. 

Still too early. Or too impatient? But shortly before 11, much earlier than their usual meeting time, Ignis heard his heavy feet racing out the classy doors. 

Gladio had cleared the distance between them when Ignis looked at him. “I tried to make a break for it as fast as I could—” 

Ignis drew him himself to a warm embrace before he could finish, filling himself with the scent of his musk and his sweat. Gladio took a second too long before he could put his own arms around him. 

“Whatʼs wrong?” he asked, a hint of dread coloring his voice. Ignis shook his head and only buried his nose deeper into the curve of his neck. “Ignis?” His hand brushed his back warmly. 

“Later,” Ignis mumbled to his jacket. “Let me just hold you for now. Just hold me.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Gladioʼs arms tightened around him, encouraging him to do the same. “Okay, I got ya.” 

He might have stayed forever in those thick arms if he hadnʼt heard Gladioʼs stomach complaining. So they made a quick stop at a kiosk that sold wraps, and then made their way to the Chocobo stable, where Ignis told everything to Gladio. 

“So what did you do?” 

“I told my colleague to stop coming in for now,” Ignis shared. He sat side-by-side his boyfriend by the steps of the carriage while they waited for the coachman to return from a restroom emergency. “Iʼll have to invent a project for them to spend the rest of their time outside the building.” 

“Yeah, good.” Gladio nodded. “I wouldʼve done the same. I wouldʼve sent them away, too.” 

“I only wish Iʼd done it sooner,” Ignis sighed heavily, plastering his hands to his forehead. “There was no need for things to get this worse.” 

“Hey, it ainʼt your fault that there are people like that in that place you work in.” Gladio put his arm around him so Ignis could rest his head on his shoulder. “Me, Iʼm not surprised. The easiest way to get power is to abuse, yʼknow? And if thatʼs how that person did it, then thatʼs the way theyʼll know to keep doing it. Why fix something that ainʼt broken?” 

Ignis busied himself with Gladioʼs hands. The bruises were gone now. He stitched their fingers together, then ran his thumb over his clean fingernails. “You’re right. Even though you shouldnʼt be.” 

“This place isnʼt fair to people like us who just want to do some clean living.” Gladio nudged him off his shoulder so he could tilt his face towards him, warm caramel eyes looking deeply into him. “So you gotta be careful in there, okay? Donʼt trust anyone, keep an eye on your blindspots.” 

“Am I going to war with wolves, Gladio?” Ignis laughed in his breath. But when his boyfriend frowned, he caressed him on his full lips and planted a kiss on it. “I will be careful,” he assured him. “I didnʼt survive this long by being gullible. Donʼt forget, I live in the slums just like you.” 

“What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didnʼt worry about mine, hm?” Finally, Gladio smiled. 

He went with him again to the train station, and then to Sector 7 despite Ignisʼ insistence that he would be fine on his own, and that Gladio had to look after himself, too. He refused to leave him, though, and kept his hand around his as they walked. 

“I thought you really needed me,” Gladio explained as they passed the bar. “Canʼt find the heart to just let you deal on your own after.” 

“Youʼre sure you arenʼt just worried about me?” Ignis teased. But where he grinned, Gladio only fixed a kiss on his head. 

They came up to his apartment soon enough where Gladio personally returned his borrowed key to the closet. Ignis had been about to see him off when he stopped him, again, with a gentle hand on his sleeve and a quiet, “Ignis.” 

One look into his searching amber eyes was enough to tell Ignis what he wanted. He had just enough time to lock the door before Gladio pushed him to it and devoured his mouth in a wild kiss. 

They didnʼt bother with their clothes when they fucked. On his feet, Ignis could easier push his ass back against Gladioʼs penetrating dick even when his boyfriend pumped him in his hand. Every moan that rang from his throat was trapped in Gladioʼs fingers around his mouth. 

Gladioʼs own was barely restrained behind his snarls. He was breathing straight to his ear, muttering under his teeth, “Your ass feels so good! I canʼt get enough of how tight it is…Ignis, youʼre so fucking good…!” 

Ignis tried to hold off for as long as he could but on their feet, Gladio was in a perfect position to keep hitting his prostate. 

After sex, they stayed out by the foot of the stairwell, where it was cooler than inside the room. Gladio leaned back to his stomach while Ignis played with his dark hair with idle fingers. 

“Youʼve already fucked me twice,” Ignis sighed, “but I havenʼt seen you naked yet.” 

Gladio looked up to him with a sorry smile and apologized. 

Ignis accepted it by kissing him on his lips. “Itʼs strange…for a man whoʼs built like you, Iʼd thought you would be more than happy to show off your body.” 

“Guys who are built like me donʼt generally read books either,” Gladio shrugged, “but guess who just cried when the protagonistʼs dad sacrificed himself?” 

“My tender-hearted boyfriend,” Ignis answered with a wide smile before he kissed him again. “Donʼt blame me for wanting to see you naked, though.” He wasnʼt shy when he reached down to feel him on his right chest. “You’re a handsome man and I have a healthy libido.” 

“Sooner than later, then,” Gladio snickered. “By the way.” He straightened up, pulled open the zipper of his gym bag and brought out a letter envelope, already torn open. “Since weʼre talkinʼ about sex and stuff, I thought you should know Iʼm clean.” 

“How very thoughtful of you to show this to me after we had sex,” Ignis chuckled. He opened the letter to browse the results. “When was this?” 

“Just this week.” Gladio leaned back onto his flat tummy again. “Every month, we get randomly selected to get tested for diseases. After all, thereʼs really no saying what the others get up to with our clients for extra cash, yʼknow? Todayʼs my lucky month.” 

“I suppose I should feel lucky myself,” Ignis quipped. He gave the results back to Gladio. “Iʼll get tested, too. Just so weʼre even. I should be able to do it on my lunch break.”

“Only if you can fit it in your schedule,” Gladio said. “So, what are you going to do about your teammate, by the way? You said you needed them to help you out but now you gotta keep them away from the office.” 

“No matter.” Ignis shook his head. “Iʼll find someone else for sure.”

—

For the first day of Promptoʼs absence from the office, everything was going well. Busier without a trained helping hand, quieter without someone piping up suddenly about an email, a call or something he found on the internet or on his social media feed.

“Prompto didnʼt sleep well last night,” Noct shared when Ignis had asked him about his friend over lunch. “Something about his engine didnʼt fit or something so heʼs still thinking about it.” 

“Is he at least eating well?” Ignis folded the paper back from his sandwich. “Does he have food in the house?” 

“I guess.” Noct scratched his head. “If he didnʼt, he would have called me by now.” 

He disappeared inside the meeting room for the rest of the afternoon. When he came out, it was already late enough to have dinner. 

Not the best time to be receiving a visitor, but he couldnʼt very well decline this one—especially when he had come to deliver Ignisʼ request for the reactor inventory. The one he submitted the same night he caught his visitor playing with his prostitute in the meeting room. 

“My, my, Mr. Scientia,” Ferro sighed, massaging his forehead. “Young men like you shouldnʼt be spending your personal time sitting here in the office. Why, when I was your age, I was already hitting the bar at this time.” Looking for his victims? 

If Ferro could pretend that nothing happened between the two of them and Prompto, then Ignis could do the same. “Perhaps the days were just simpler back then,” he mused, flipping through the pages of the inventory to confirm that he had everything he needed. “But now, there is too much to do and too little time to finish them all.” He bowed to Ferro for the document and filed it somewhere to be looked into next week. “Thank you for bringing this here. I could have just come to collect it myself.” 

Ferro waved his concern off the air with a friendly smile. “Well, seeing as you are alone today,” he looked around for effect, “perhaps Iʼve done you a favor, eh? Really, you must keep an intern around you to help you manage your tasks.” Ignis couldnʼt tell if that was a pointed insult or a desperate attempt to bring up Prompto. Why else would Ferro do him a personal favor? “Has he gone home for the day?” 

“Ahh, I think heʼs still here,” Ignis revealed, looking past Ferroʼs side to see the man approaching with his nose on his phone again, his bag hanging around his shoulder. “Noct, could I bother you for just a second?” 

Noct glanced up to him briefly before he returned to his phone, though he marched more quickly now. 

Ignis spared a look at Ferro and caught the exact moment his smile faltered into a look of surprise. It was back before Noct could reach them; if Ignis had turned a second too late, he might not have caught it all. 

“What is it?” Noct looked first at him and then at the Shinra executive. Dark blue eyes flashed in recognition. “Hey, whatʼre you doing here?” Well, this was unexpected. 

Ferro nodded politely to him. “Hello, Noctis. I see youʼre still carrying around that defective materia.” 

“So what?” Noct shifted his weight to one leg, rubbing his fist on his nose. “I like it.” Now would have been a good time for Ignis to step in but he was interested to see the interaction between the two. Gauging from his friendʼs haughty air, he didnʼt like the man. “So? Whatʼre you doing here?” he repeated himself. 

“Shall we answer the same question?” 

“Iʼm here ‘cause this guy needs an intern,” he jutted his head towards Ignis. “Iʼm filling in for the other guy. Your move.” _Your move._ Ignis noted his choice of words. 

But his move was to redirect that patronizing smile to Ignis and ask him, “So you replaced Prompto?” Like some employer who was displeased with his subordinateʼs decision. This was a man who didnʼt take disobedience and disappointment well. 

“Yes, Iʼm afraid Mr. Argentum wonʼt be available to help around for the meantime,” Ignis replied with a level tone. He gestured politely to Noct who looked darkly at the senior manager. “So Iʼm very grateful that Mr. Caelum could step in.” 

“I see,” Ferro said in dismissal. “Well, then,” he checked his watch, “I should get going. Have a good evening, both of you.” He tilted his head first to Ignis, then to Noct. 

His eyes, Ignis caught them glancing at Noctʼs bracer, which was loaded with materia. 

And then finally, he was off. 

Ignis didnʼt breathe out in relief until after Ferro had disappeared from his line of sight. He fell back to his seat, pulling out his glasses to clean it on his tie—

Noct pulled his chair, twisting him to face his stunned stare while he trapped him with his hands on the arms of his seat. “ _He_ knows _Prompto_? You let him get near _Prompto_?” So he was right—there was animosity between these two. 

Ignis slipped his glasses back on, looking his friend in the eye. “I caught Senior Manager Ferro in a conversation with Prompto one day and introduced them both.” 

Noct muttered a curse and sagged sideways. 

“Unfortunately, I didnʼt yet know what kind of man he was back then,” Ignis finished. 

Noct stared back at him for that, this time in some confusion. “Did he say anything to Prompto?” He knew him well, it seemed. 

Ignis crossed his arms. “I would rather you hear it from Prompto himself. What do you know of this man, Noct?” 

Noct eyed him under curled brows. “How do I know I can trust you?” Here he goes again. Though Ignis would be an idiot to blame him. 

Fortunately for him, he could call on a friend to vouch for him this time. Ignis took his mobile phone from his desktop and offered it to Noct. “Shall we call Prompto to ask him?” 

Noct pursed his lips in thought, then finally let him go, flicking at his fringes as he straightened up. “Fine, you made your point.” He nodded to his shoulder. “Well, follow me.”

—

They didnʼt speak for the whole trip to and in the lift until the doors split open and led them out into what Ignis recognized as the corporate archives section.

“Guess youʼve never been here, huh?” Noct served as his tour guide as he led him around the rings of shelves, full of dead texts that no one would ever bother with. “I think most anyoneʼs never been here except if theyʼre like, floating employees who donʼt have anything better to do.” 

“And what did you do before I borrowed you from the mayor?” Ignis asked, shifting the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. He realized now that he could have put in any reason in his email and the mayor might have just let him have Noct, anyway. He remembered, too, that Prompto had told him the mayor didnʼt care what Noct did, even when he slept on the job. 

Noct pointed to a set of boxes left at the feet of several shelves, some in the company of stout white robots that looked like they were sleeping while holding up an invisible tray. “Though he did teach me a few secrets here and there. I mean, when heʼs actually not being insufferable. Check this out.”

Ignis never noticed the stout red book in a row of plain taller green ones until Noct had pushed it all the way back. He wondered if heʼd just imagined the click. 

But the groaning, definitely not, nor the shelf rolling backwards and then sideways to reveal a similar-looking library, except now with a great pair of doors in the middle—quite out of place. 

It was their destination. “Gramps normally comes in at like 6 or 7 then leaves by 8,” Noct started to share with him. “Youʼll find out if heʼs still around if Hartʼs standing outside the door.” 

“Whoʼs Hart?” 

“Attendant, husband, best friend, whatever.” Noct shrugged. “Never bothered to ask but they do a lotta things together. I think he might have been Grampsʼ campaign manager, too.”

“Is it acceptable for you to be addressing the mayor this way?” Ignis frowned. For all that the mayor didnʼt care about his actions, after all, some respect ought to still be in order. 

Noct stopped in front of the door to look strangely at him. “Why canʼt I call my own grandfather Gramps?” _What—_

Ignis stared at him. “You’re Mayor Dominoʼs grandson?” He could hardly keep his surprise to himself. So was he…Domino Lucis Caelum? He didnʼt know a different first name aside from ‘mayorʼ. 

Noct smiled cheekily. “Pretty much.” He opened the door and stepped right through. “Prompto couldnʼt believe it either when he found out, but Dad told me it was Grampsʼ idea to get our names changed starting from his generation. Guess thatʼs his point.” 

Ignis followed Noct inside the dark room. Two sides of it were filled with footages from various security cameras, flanking an official desk that faced a functional if stiff lounge set. “So no one could connect your lineage to him?” he attempted his comprehension of the situation but he wasnʼt sure he had all the pieces of the puzzle in his hands. 

“Yeah, I guess?” Noct shrugged, tossing his bag to a couch. “Let’s just say,” he paused near the mayorʼs desk to consider his next words, “he and Shinra really donʼt see eye-to-eye.” He dumped himself in the mayorʼs seat to pull himself towards the computer. Swift fingers raced through the keyboard until Noctʼs face was illuminated by the screen. 

“So youʼll be protected from any repercussions he might suffer for their differences?” Which Ignis could understand. Anyone who went against Shinra lived dangerous lives. Why else were they suffering reactor attacks? He sat himself at the top of the couch, waiting for Noct to finish whatever it was he brought them both here for. 

“Nah, I think he actually sees us as his secret weapons or something,” Noct snorted. “Heʼs got an inflated ego. I mean his password everywhere is king, all-caps.” He pushed himself off the seat and marched out the door, taking something hidden from the shadows beside it—

“Should you have told me about that password—” A sword. Ignis got up to his feet suddenly. He could hardly believe what he was looking at but there was no denying it, it was a _sword_ in his hand! Plain blade, freshly polished, with a simple grip emblazoned with a symbol that often adorned SOLDIER uniforms. 

He followed Noct back to the archives where the younger man was spinning the blade easily in his right, looking out to the myriad of shelves that surrounded his grandfatherʼs seat of power. “Noct, where did you get that sword?” 

“I got it from the weapons division.” Because, of course, where would all other weapons come from? “All right, stand back.” Noct leaned a little low and forward, spreading his feet. One second he was hopping and pitching the sword to the shelves across the great room, the second, he was gone. 

Ignis would be the first to deny that he jumped at Noctʼs disappearance, although he did stare in shock at the blue silhouette that he left behind. It was reminiscent to what he thought was just a trick of the light in the school campus from days back. When he searched for him, he found him at the top of a stepladder at the other side of the room, sorting through some books to his right. 

The blade bit into the vintage wooden post beside the office door. And then Noct was back, landing on his feet as if from a flight, glowing slightly in the same blue aura. He carried a flat black clear book back with him. 

Which he opened up and held out to Ignis, stopping him before he could spit out a question about what he just did. “You heard about that bar that closed ‘cause it was keeping refugees?” He tapped the sheet of paper in its plastic sleeve as Ignis took it in his hands. 

The paper and document looked old, an obvious photocopy of some handwritten ledger of sorts, the left side a list of names, the right side a table of numbers, like sums and differences, in three columns. At the top was a typewritten note that looked like it had been photocopied along with the source material: _See here list of Ferro Assets. C.A._

“A list of income?” Ignis mumbled, flipping to the next pages. There were two more, the last one taking up only the top portion of the paper, listing totals. 

He scanned through the second list, looking for Noctʼs tip. “Jidoor,” he noted at random when he passed the name. And then he stopped at the one several rows down. 

“WM-Exotic,” Ignis mumbled. The numbers that followed it ran for several digits. Again with the coincidences—what were the chances that this was a different business than the Exotica in Wall Market, Ferroʼs most profitable business? 

Very minimal—the signatory at the bottom of the last page made it clear: “As prepared by—Morie!” Morie who used to own the land until he sold it to someone, or so his lawyer said. 

“The drug dealer, yeah.” Noct braced his hands to his sides, leaning from one leg to the next. “Funny thing is, I remember seeing that same list in Dadʼs office when I was in senior high.” Ignis flipped back to the first page for the note. C.A. What did that mean? “I guess he gave it to Gramps and then Gramps told me to file it.” 

“Do you know anything else about this?” Ignis scanned the names and amounts again. Ferro had mentioned owning several businesses. He wondered how many more of this was still alive. “How did your father come upon it?” 

Noct shrugged. “Friends, I guess. Anyway,” he gestured to the book, “obviously I wouldnʼt want that guy anywhere near my friends.” 

“Indeed,” Ignis murmured, flipping it shut. Such a harmless thing weighed heavily in his mind…no, not harmless. These were all receipts—preserved, like bombs waiting to be hurled against their marks

Someone wanted to bring Ferro and Morie down but before that… “Noct, I worry about what Ferro might do with Prompto,” Ignis confessed suddenly, facing his friend. 

“ _Huh?_ ” Noct stared at him in alarm, his voice tight with surprise. “Hey, you canʼt just tell me that without explaining yourself!” 

“Ferro asked him if he lived alone.” 

Understanding dawned on Noctʼs features. “Damn,” he clicked his tongue, frowning to his feet. “Okay.” 

Ignis brought his attention back to the clear book he carried, feeling the texture of the cover under his thumb. Ferro, Morie…Claymore, _Gladio_ …

What could be connecting them all?


	12. Chapter 12

_You need to stop doing this,_ Ignis chided himself, fists tightening on his knees while he waited by the steps leading up to the gym. He frowned at them. _You need to stop suspecting your boyfriend of every single accusation you discover._ And yet, that was exactly what he was doing on a fine Saturday morning, while he was out on a date with the very man himself. 

What did that make him, he wondered. Ungrateful? Disloyal? It wasnʼt even that he couldnʼt enjoy himself to the fullest whenever he was with his most admired man, and in fact, he did. A lot. Especially now that theyʼd finally had sex and they were both willing to deepen that part of their relationship. But the innocent excitement he used to feel whenever his crush should notice him had since…withered and changed. Like the leaves of autumn. 

What used to be pure was now tinged with greedy guilt. Like a ghoul haunting him, his mind constantly reminded him of unanswered questions, mysterious connections. What was he doing that night in the auction house? Did he really have nothing to do with Exoticaʼs closure? Little by little, they crept at his glee like a warning for bad times up ahead. A repeat lesson from his uncle in peace since he seemed to have forgotten every last one of them: protect himself, remain pragmatic, never forget that he lived in the slums. He thought it would be easy to remember them following years of growing under his uncleʼs tutelage. 

And then came the sweetest, most beautiful man the Lifestream had somehow ever come up with. One smile, one wave, one look from him and all his uncleʼs wisdom would become like a vague whisper at the back of his head, sealed tight by his blissful joy. 

One second scrutinizing and wise, the next a happy fool. That was Ignis Scientia in the arms of the one he was most fond of. And if the heart could change, then so could his guilt; how could he ever think ill of those lovely amber eyes? How could he allow himself to turn into the idiot his uncle never raised? 

“Ya hungry?” Gladio asked, taking him by the hand to march them on out of there. 

“Famished,” Ignis agreed, leaning close to him, carrying his long arm around his shoulders by their tangled fingers. 

They met at the gym in Wall Market that morning where Gladio guided them through some basic strength exercises. After that, the plan was to drop by this popular restaurant in Sector 5 and if they still had time before Gladio was needed in the _Honeybee Inn_ , book a room somewhere for a few more hours with each other. 

“By the way, you remember Exotica?” Gladio asked while they were in the carriage for the neighboring sector. Ignis nodded—how could he forget? “My housemates are thinking of buying that place and turning it into a dance studio.” 

“Really?” Ignis sounded genuinely interested. The Chocobo was winding down which meant they were getting near their stop. “I suppose that would be easy, seeing as the previous owner is currently behind bars and Wall Market will want to make that location profitable again, sooner than later.” 

“Yeah,” Gladio agreed. “Problem is, itʼs a prime spot. Lots of nightclubs all around plus with the attention itʼs gotten from the media, the price for that location has gone up.” 

“Thatʼs ironic,” Ignis chortled. 

“Well,” Gladio shrugged, “publicity is publicity, I guess. So theyʼre looking for someone to split it with but the only other guy whoʼs interested is this sex guru who wants to expand his toy business into a sex studio of sorts.” With a happy wark, the Chocobo announced their arrival. He got up and led the way down from the coach. 

“Thatʼs hilarious!” Ignis laughed to prove it. Gladio guided him down by the elbow. “Does he mean to train people for sex?” 

“They say heʼs callinʼ it a,” Gladio scratched the air, “sex wellness clinic. Which sounds fancy but in Wall Market?” He waved goodbye to the coachman while Ignis, still laughing, bowed to him. “I have my doubts.” 

“I canʼt imagine how he can do it without causing another scandal.” Ignisʼ hand was back in his. 

“Yeah, thatʼs what worries my housemates,” Gladio shared, leading the way to the restaurant. “Wall Market doesnʼt care what anyone does in that place as long as it brings in the money, yʼknow? So they canʼt expect any kind of security from them. If someone complains about the sex studio, theyʼll be done for, too.” 

They had to wait a little longer just to find a table. Service was slow but between the food and their conversations, they managed to make it to the end of a full lunch without a smidgen of complaint. 

They passed by the massive TV in the middle of the square on their way to a cheap motel. The SNN was on, which drew quite the crowd especially with a loud _BREAKING NEWS_ striped along the bottom. Ignis stopped Gladio and turned them both to the female newscaster in red, just before she disappeared behind a CCTV footage from the corner of a store. 

In it, a man was dragging someone in a business suit back with him through the door, pointing a gun to the startled staff who carried their hands up. Several other shoppers were on the floor, hands on the back of their heads. One of them was leaning onto the counter as she gripped her shoulder. It was a materia store, gauging by the orbs in the shelves. 

The footage shifted to just outside the store where several policemen had come to surround the hostage taker. After several failed attempts to scare them off with his gun, he shot his hostage somewhere that brought him down to his knees, then escaped down the corridor. It was somewhere that resembled a mall. 

The newscaster was back. “ _Former 3rd Class SOLDIER Commander Eustace Boon is currently being treated in the Shinra Hospital._ ” The manʼs picture slid into the space next to the woman. “ _His doctors report that his condition is stable and that he may be discharged in the coming days._ ” She sorted briefly through her papers and then faced the camera again. “ _This just in: police confirms that the suspect has been successfully neutralized._ ” A handful of people voiced their discontent. The dead manʼs photo came in next to her. 

With a sharp gasp, Ignis recognized Claymore Aquila. 

“Ignis?” Gladio carried a hand to his shoulder for a soft shake but there was nothing he could have done to distract him from the screen. “Ignis, dʼyou know this guy?” 

“Yes,” Ignis hissed quietly. “Yes, heʼs—” 

“ _—who the police identified as Neil Clery,_ ” the newscaster reported. So Ignis was right—Claymore Aquila wasnʼt his real name but in his shocked state, his mind was warring against itself and his brows curled in a confused protest. “ _Prior to this, he was arrested for petty crimes such as burglary and theft. Shinra Police suspect that he had been working undercover for the eco-terrorist group AVALANCHE who is believed to be behind the hostage situation._ ” Claymoreʼs face disappeared. “ _Now for the weather._ ” 

“Ignis, itʼs done.” With a little nudge, Gladio guided Ignis to face him so he could bring his hands gently along his jawline. Even the crowd seemed to have relaxed to an easy buzz. “Look at me. Itʼs done.” 

“I canʼt believe they killed him,” Ignis sputtered. Though considering the kind of crowd Claymore worked with, he really wasnʼt surprised…but he had been thinking about him just this morning. And now he was dead. He was the closest death to Ignis that was dealt by Shinraʼs hands. 

“I know, Iʼm sorry.” Gladio spoke quietly with a sympathetic gaze, moving his thumbs gently along Ignisʼ cheeks. Otherwise, his hands were steady. Disaffected. “You wanna find some place to sit and talk?” Ignis nodded. “Okay, letʼs go. Think I got just the place.” He started to lead them away from the blank TV screen. 

“ _Citizens of Midgar!_ ” 

They turned again with the startled crowd that gasped at the new voice. This one was harsh with interference despite the clear picture of a man in a black mask, dark goggles and an angled beret. In khaki fatigues and shoulder plates, he stood in front of a wall that was vandalized with angry white strokes to spell _AVALANCHE_. 

“ _Once again, Shinra has manipulated the truth and used their power to spread their lies. The victim Neil Clery is not a member of your defenders the AVALANCHE! The crime he committed did not come from our directive but is the result of Shinraʼs authoritarian control!_ ” He nodded to someone off the camera. 

A few seconds later, the CCTV footage of the standoff outside the store was back, only this time it came with the audio recording. “ _Tell them,_ ” Claymore Aquila cried. “ _Tell them what those bastards did to the captain!_ ” 

“ _I donʼt know what you are saying!_ ” the former SOLDIER protested. “ _Please let me go, Iʼm already retired!_ ” 

“ _Tell them!!_ ” 

“ _Sir, you have 5 seconds to drop your gun and let go of Commander Boon,_ ” one of the policemen warned him. “ _Obey or you will be killed on the spot!_ ” They started counting down. Claymore tried to persist with his command until he gave up and shot the hostage so he could run away. 

The next CCTV footage put him in a train station in the upper plate. Ignis thought he must be trying to escape to the slums but he was surrounded, several sets of guns pointed to him. 

“ _You got nowhere to go, boy! Just drop your gun and come with us!_ ” 

“ _No,_ ” Claymore roared, moving the gun to his own head and causing quite a stir in the viewing crowd. “ _No, I wonʼt let you kill me!_ ” 

“ _Donʼt be ridiculous, just come with us. Put down your gun and come with us!_ ” 

For several heartbeats, neither side made a move. 

“ _Weʼre giving you up to 3 and if you donʼt surrender, youʼll leave us no choice!_ ” came the officerʼs last warning. “ _One…two—_ ” 

“ _Justice for Captain Clarus Amicitia!!_ ” 

A rain of bullets ended his life, spurring Gladio towards the TV in a burst of alarm, going so far as to pushing Ignis just to get to it. But the man from AVALANCHE was back before he could do anything more so he was just stuck there, gaping at the screen like a man searching for directions. Ignis tried to call him back but had to run to his side when Gladio refused to move. 

“Gladio!” He put himself in front of him to be looked at but would not be seen. For the first time since he saw them, those wide amber eyes had lost their fire. Now there was only a haunted look about him, like a boy watching a tragedy in action. 

“ _Neil Clery cried for justice for his former captain Clarus Amicitia who was wrongly branded a war criminal before he was killed._ ” The man from AVALANCHE declaimed. “ _But instead of being heard, he was shot down like the captain before him. Our hearts go out to Neil Cleryʼs surviving family. May his soul and that of Captain Amicitia find respite in the Lifestream._ ” The video faded out to black and two lines of texts: _Justice for Neil Clery_ and _Justice for Clarus Amicitia_. 

The crowd was alive with murmurs, each one louder than the last. Heads turned, every one an expert of their own ideas. 

It was not a good place to think. Ignis took Gladioʼs hand, shaking it to be noticed but despite his persistent calls for attention, his boyfriend only looked first one way, then the other. He would not be listened to, as well. “Gladio Hester, look at me.” 

When he didnʼt, Ignis carried his other hand and brought it to his own cheek. That finally led Gladio back to him, though he still acted like a lost ghost. “Whatʼs on your mind, Gladio? Would you like us to talk about it?” He didnʼt know. 

He could tell from the look on Gladioʼs face that he didnʼt know. So rather than give a clear answer, he pulled Ignis into his arms and held him close, like a child looking for comfort. 

Ignis wrapped him back in his own embrace, clapping him gently on his broader shoulder. “I understand,” he assured him, even when he didnʼt. “I understand…”

—

Deeper into Sector 5, there was a ruined church that smelled of flowers. Ignis had heard of it some years back but this was the first opportunity he had to actually visit it.

And it was perfect for what he and Gladio needed—quiet, peaceful, far removed from the mayhem of the town. With the bed of yellow flowers in the middle, the spacious floor, the tall ceiling and the light shining through the crevice on top, it felt cool and airy. Certainly a good place to breathe and think. Only Ignis hadnʼt been able to do much of it since they arrived, not with his boyfriend at quite a state. 

They sat together in the front pew to the left of the flower bed, hands never apart but neither of them talking, as well. Gladio still looked quite distant while he stared at the old floor, shaking his left knee, hunched down with his elbows on his thighs. 

“Did he mean something to you?” Ignis finally ventured softly. 

Gladio snapped up to him. “Who—who?” Who indeed… 

There were only two names he could think of, two deaths—and the one didnʼt evoke the same kind of emotions like the other. 

“Clarus Amicitia,” Ignis answered. 

Gladio turned to the flowerbed again, then shook his head, several times. “No,” he whispered. He was lying. 

Ignis could tell easily that he was lying. If he wasnʼt, he wouldnʼt be so worked up. He would be sitting back on the pew, wearing that gentle smile on his face as they talked. Comforted Ignis for the news they heard. 

Clarus Amicitia…where did he hear this name again? 

“You?” Gladio piped up suddenly. “You seemed pretty shocked when they announced that your friend was killed.” 

Ignis chuckled hollowly. “I suppose he…is actually more of an acquaintance than a friend. He was just someone I kept bumping into.” He shrugged, offering Gladio a smile which he tried to imitate. “We first met in the train…and then in the coffee shop near the office. The night…we were in the auction house, the reason I was there was because…I was looking for him,” he finally revealed. “But he hadnʼt even told me his real name. He told me he was called Claymore Aquila.” Gladioʼs brows shifted subtly. “I donʼt know why he would lie to me.” 

“Guess itʼs ‘cause of what we saw,” Gladio muttered deeply. “Honestly, I wouldnʼt believe everything anyone who can control that giant TV says. Shinra, AVALANCHE…theyʼre both just two sides of the same coin. Maybe theyʼre just disowning him but that doesnʼt change the fact that he was killed just like that. A lifeʼs a life, yʼknow?” 

Ignis agreed with silent nods. “I realize now that we shouldnʼt have seen that if it werenʼt for me. I apologize for ruining our date.” 

“Hey, cʼmon.” Gladio drew him to another embrace, patting him this time on his arm. “Donʼt think that way. Neither of us wanted this, and you would have heard about it anyway. Iʼm glad I was here when you did, though.” Ignis couldnʼt be sure but he had a feeling that this was Gladio avoiding his…overreaction from earlier. 

What could Ignis do, though? He couldnʼt keep pressing his boyfriend on something he didnʼt have a clue about. And especially at this time, when the shock was still so fresh for him, they would get nowhere fast and Ignis would only put himself on a disadvantage. 

He would have to give him some time, then. And in the meantime, he would have to find out who Clarus Amicitia was. Who he was _to_ Gladio. 

There was something there, for sure. A man like Gladio wouldnʼt just act out that way if there wasnʼt.

—

Before they parted in front of Gladioʼs shared house, Ignis made sure to give him a full kiss where his housemates could see and hoot and whistle. He thought it was better this way—the kiss was his way of comforting Gladio and his housemates would give him something else to think about.

Once he was home, he made dinner for his neighbors, then sat down with his laptop to get started with his homework. 

The hostage situation was everywhere, which was to be expected. But while several news sites had it featured, everyone talked about the same thing: Claymore was a regular to the mall and the store starting from a few months back. This was how he came to know the victimʼs movements until the hostage situation that morning. Prior to that, both of them had been members of the Shinra Army—

 _Shinra Army?_ Ignis had to read the paragraph twice. 

He adjusted his glasses, bounced on his seat to get more comfortable. Apparently, both of them had been employed by the army during the Wutai Campaign where Boon was a commander and Claymore was a Private First Class belonging to a different unit. Five years before the war was won, Claymore left the army. Two years later, Boon retired and started his materia chain store. As for Claymore, all that was said of him was his police record. 

Probably moved from job to job, Ignis thought, while he browsed the forums, or at least the ones brave enough to discuss the AVALANCHE broadcast. A short-lived effort but at least it gave him a few starting points on his other curiosity: according to the know-it-alls that operated the messageboards, the reason why Claymore had been so affected by the death of Clarus Amicitia was because he belonged to the same unit that he captained. And the talk was that he was quite the benevolent leader who was fair to all his colleagues and subordinates despite his skyrocketing achievements. If he hadnʼt died, many claimed he would have been 1st Class by now. 

Ignis typed in his new search query: _clarus amicitia_. 

The picture of an eagle-eyed man accompanied the results, silver head nearly bald with piercing blue eyes where he looked at the camera. He was 50 when he killed himself on an apparent suicide when he became a war criminal for being sympathetic to the Wutai cause, even personally spiriting Shinra weapons to their shabby army himself. The last note he left was a letter of apology to the company he betrayed. As for his wife and children, the shame of his crime had forced them to pack up and hightail it, but met an unfortunate accident along the expressway that caused the car to explode. Conspiracy theorists claimed that it was actually no accident but a bomb Amicitia had planted so they could perform a family suicide of sorts. 

A benevolent leader who was fair to everyone…even the enemies? From that perspective, Ignis supposed it was a fair enough progression. Still didnʼt explain why Gladio had been so affected, though. Did he join the army when he was young and belong to his leadership, too? Ignis figured it could make sense—trained to fight, owned a sword… 

Didnʼt know Claymore even by his real name. 

Ignis sighed and scrolled on. Found another link that interested him: _Amicitia Suicide Possibly a Murder_. 

He suddenly remembered hearing about this during one of the news bits he watched in the office gym. At that time, Morie had just been acquitted from one of his cases but according to the article, someone had pointed out that his car was last seen pulling up near the Amicitia household in Sector 1, and traces of his blood were also found in the alleged murder scene which was the dining room. Morieʼs camp claimed, then, that prior to the suicide, Morie had arrived to invite Clarus for some drinks when he saw him with a knife in his hand. They fought when Morie tried to disarm the man but later lost and saw the exact moment he cut himself open, from the right side of his ribs up to the left chest. 

That part was consistently enclosed in quotation marks from various sources. Morieʼs camp also claimed that the reason why this very important detail was left out was because Morie had been traumatized by the death of his colleague. Before that, they had both worked in the army during the Wutai campaign where Morie had been a 3rd Class SOLDIER until he was discharged due to drug-related activities. 

So everyone and their families belonged to SOLDIER. Ignis leaned back on his seat, scratching his forehead. It almost seemed as if war was such an ugly business everyone should just stay away from—

The crash of an angry fist on his door caused him to startle. Ignis took a moment to recall where he was, then checked the time on his screen. It was half past 8 in the evening; heʼd been doing this for hours already. 

Ignis whispered a curse under his breath while he removed his glasses and rubbed his hands over his tired eyes. The frustrated banging wouldnʼt stop and if Ignis didnʼt do anything about it, half the sector would be crowding to his front sooner than later. He slipped on his glasses and finally got up to answer it. 

“Ignis Scientia?” his angry visitor called through the door. “We know youʼre in there.” _We?_ Who was ‘weʼ? “Better come out before I break this door.” This was no visitor—at least not one that Ignis knew. 

That was how he realized that something was wrong. Something was _terribly_ wrong! He didnʼt know the voice, none of his acquaintances called him by his full name and no one of them would be in the right mind to be causing this ruckus. Something had happened that put him under the radar of certain unspeakable fellows…and whoʼs fault was that for failing to keep his nose away from other peopleʼs businesses? 

“ _Shit,_ ” he hissed, slamming his laptop shut and hurrying to his bag to pull out his daggers. Heʼd just finished hooking the belt around his waist when he brought himself to the wall next to the door. Try as he might to think about which part of his mistakes had come for his karma, he couldnʼt single out one of them because they all seemed interconnected. 

The rapping stopped briefly. “Hey, are we even sure heʼs still inside?” 

“Why donʼt you open the door just to be sure?” 

“Dammit, why wonʼt they just come quietly?” the first voice sighed. Ignis tensed his muscles when he reached for the light switch and brought in some darkness. That angry fist came again. Ignis started to work on the locks… 

“Huh, itʼs open,” the first voice observed when he turned the knob. 

“Guess that makes our job easier, then,” the second voice said. 

The outside light spilled onto his floor when his visitors came in. The first was a muscular man, standing at about his height, and the second one carried a similar silhouette. 

“Where the hell is he?” 

“Let’s get some lights in here.”

The moment the second manʼs finger touched the switch, Ignis lashed out with an upward cut along his forearm. The resulting cry alerted his companion of Ignisʼ presence behind him. 

He knocked him out with a mean kick to his chin, causing him to topple heavily to the floor. Ignis didnʼt wait for his first victim to recover before he twisted out of his unit and started for the stairwell. 

Two more strangers waited by the foot of it, both of them whipping at him in some shock. 

Ignis bared his teeth before he darted back in front of his door to climb over the railing that was connected to the steps. A pair of footsteps clambered up the narrow stairs but he had already fallen and landed in a crouch on the ground. The fourth of his visitors grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him up. 

He met the blunt end of his dagger straight onto his temple, causing him to crumple like a doll. Now Ignis was free to run. 

He darted out through the empty path, keeping his ears to his unwanted visitors in case they should outrun him in his own turf…or what little of it still provided him comfort. Ignis thought he was safe enough in his unit and now here he was, running for his life. 

“ _Wymer!!_ ” he yelled when he zoomed past the Neighborhood Watch HQ. He couldnʼt stay long enough to entertain any questions, though, he only hoped the noise he made would be enough to stymie his pursuers if they were still hot on his heels. 

But by some miracle, he managed to make it to the train station in one piece and through the closing door of the car. Ignis gasped, panted. Dropped onto an empty bench and tried to peer out the window to catch someone slowing down as they hopped onto the platform to watch him depart. But whether or not they were friendly, Ignis couldnʼt tell. 

He was coughing as he caught his breath and righted himself on the bench. Two other passengers watched him curiously so Ignis nodded his head politely to them. He would have to change cars soon enough. 

But who were those men? How did they come to know him? They were strong and fast enough to be his match… 

Someoneʼs bandits? The loan sharks from his fatherʼs time? Impossible, they wouldnʼt expend this much force just to bully him. Who else, then? Who else… 

Ignis closed his eyes and leaned his head to the window, still catching his breath. One thing was for sure—whoever it was that wanted him caught knew he could put up a fight. Why else would they send four men against one of him?

—

_Gladio, I'm coming to you. Met some burglars in my house and I don't feel safe. I'll wait for you in the reception of Honeybee Inn. Stay safe._

 _I love you_ , he nearly added. 

Ignis caught himself just before he typed in the first word and shook his head rapidly. Just because his life could be in grave danger didnʼt give him a good reason to say something so silly and serious at the same time. Though, of course, he liked Gladio very much but to use the situation to say something so inappropriate… 

After rereading the message a fourth time, he finally sent it to Gladio. He waited for a few minutes to see if he would reply, just in case he was in his dressing room. 

When he didnʼt, he put his phone back in his jeans and tried to sort himself, pulling at his shirt and his belt to look somewhat presentable despite his winded state. Sector 5 was coming up. From there, he would take a Chocobo as usual and then make his way straight to the _Honeybee Inn_. 

He was the first to get off the car as soon as the train had pulled up to the station. Ignis cleared his throat and tried to keep a calm air about him as he marched straight for the stable. 

Until a thick fabric that reeked of something alcoholic muffled his nose and mouth, strong hands restraining his head and arm no matter how much he screamed and struggled. Panic pushed him to inhale the chemical in the fabric. 

He realized too late that he shouldnʼt have given in to his nerves. Now his knees felt like jelly when they hit the ground and he crumpled like a marionette who couldnʼt carry his limbs without his strings. Through bleary eyes, he noted three sets of feet in front of him. 

“Worked like a charm, Sir.”

“Good. Canʼt say what the boss wants with this nerd but he better not be more trouble than heʼs worth. I have enough shit to clean up with Clery as it is.” Ignis was starting to fade away. “Anyway. Tie him up and rendezvous at the camp.” 

“Yes, Sir!” 

The last thing Ignis remembered was the roughness of the rope against his wrists.

—

When he came to, he was nowhere he could recognize.

Judging by the smell of the fumes and the air, Ignis thought he might still be in the slums, though anywhere there that he couldnʼt recognize was dangerous enough for him. 

He was on the ground, and there was rubble everywhere. Across him, several figures stood around a small campfire, but only one of them paced with a phone on his ear. “Yeah. Yeah, he didnʼt put up a fight at all,” he was saying. He had wavy black hair up to his shoulders, with a face he swore heʼd just seen not too long ago… 

If Ignis hadnʼt been awake, then, when he noted his surroundings, he was most certainly alert now that he recognized the mastermind behind his kidnapping—it was Morie. 

He shut his eyes before he could be caught. Questions waged war with each other in his head but he had to come up with a plan of survival while he still had time. “So what do you want us to do with him, Sir?” Morie asked his phone. 

Ignis counted out the men from memory—five, excluding Morie. Judging by the press of his side to the ground, he could tell that those bastards had stolen his daggers, too. Terrible disadvantage. No gag around his mouth, nothing around his ankles. His wrists, though, were still bound snug against his back. 

He started to work on them, rotating his fists steadily as he listened into his captors. “Sir, yes, Sir.” 

“So? What did the boss say?” 

“Do whatever we want as long as he disappears. So, you know what that means.” 

“Ha. Told ya this guy owes him big time.” 

“You three take care of it,” Morie said. “And take _good_ care of it, okay? I have enough ghosts I have to deal with.” 

“Copy that.” 

Ignis laid still when he felt rough hands manhandling him onto a shoulder like a sack of rice. He kept his eyes closed and his ears sharp. 

They started to move… 

“Wait, just one second.” 

They stopped at Morieʼs command. 

“You, give me those.”

“Aw, cʼmon, Sir! These are good knives!” 

“What part of disappear donʼt you understand? You, take the knives. The materia, all of it. Weʼre gonna do this properly if you donʼt want me to make an example out of all of you!” 

He heard the familiar clink of his blades somewhere near him. Good. Good, this was a rare luck that he desperately needed. 

They were moving again, and Ignis went back to his work on his bonds, widening the gap between his pulses little by little. 

“Man, we really gotta kill this guy?” 

“Why, you wanna be friends with him?” 

“Iʼm just thinking with the bar gone, we could really use another source of income.” 

“You mean whore him out?” Ignis caught his breath, forced his mind back on the task at hand. “Got anyone in mind?” 

“I dunno, Wall Marketʼs teeming with creeps. Even the boss likes boys.” 

“If the boss wanted him for a sex slave, you can bet this isnʼt where weʼll be tonight.” Ignisʼ stomach twisted. 

“Could sell him for his organs, though.” A pause. 

“Oh, thatʼs a good idea.” 

“Better make it nice and clean, then. Letʼs put him down here.” 

Ignis met the ground again, careful not to lose his bonds before they noticed anything different. With his work done, the next step now was to wait for the opportunity to strike. 

“Hand me those blades, will ya? A slice up his neck should do it.”

“How much sleeping agent did Meek put in that thing…?” 

“Who cares? As long as he wonʼt be squealing like a pig.” The same voice sighed. “Damn shame to be burying these knives, too. Theyʼre really fine stuff.” 

“Donʼt think we wanna try Morie right now, he hasnʼt been the forgiving sorts since that thing about the auction house.” 

“Yeah. Stupid Neil. Bet you he was the guy who went to the police.” Hands brought Ignis up to his knees so he could carry his chin up. Furtively, he slipped his right hand through his loosened ropes. “Fucking asshole.” Ignis felt the faintest touch of cold steel on his throat. 

It was the perfect chance for him to push himself up to his feet and smash his head onto his would-be murdererʼs chin. He snatched his blade from his hand just as he pulled himself to a tight spin, lashing out with the same weapon. 

The man wailed when Ignis caught him by his eyes, slapping his meaty hands onto them as he fell heavily to the ground. 

Ignis exhaled, pointing to both stunned men across him. “When we are done here, it will be _your_ organs Iʼll be selling in the black market!” He spread out his feet and whirled his blade to a backhanded grip. 

Turning it again, he inspected the materia inserted into the stylish handle. 

“Or not.” Ignis straightened up as the two others came at him at the same time, one of them brandishing his own weapon at him. “Change of plans!” With a spin, he flipped back from where he stood and threw a _Lightning_ spell onto his attackers. 

The pop and the crackle was loud enough to devour their cries and echo against the concrete that surrounded them. The scent of burnt flesh wafted shortly after. 

And then Ignis stood alone in the middle, with his two other captors burnt to a crisp and the last one on his side, in an obvious state of pain. 

He ignored him for his other dagger and the belt which had been abandoned on the ground. A quick look around as he wore them told him that he was in a dead end of sorts, caused by a fallen road and the other debris that came with it. Could he still be in Sector 6? He knew of the expressway that gave in and understood it as a character unique to the sector.

If he was still there, that at least brought him close to home, and Gladio. Now he would just have to find out how to get to one or the other without getting caught, killed, sold, whatever in the process. Easier said than done. 

No use standing around here, though. Nothing else would move him but him. After a final glance in case he missed anything, Ignis took off down the tunnel, following a straight path with no clue as to where it was going to lead him. He came out to a fork of sorts that led to three directions: back, left and right, marked by a campfire in the middle—oh shit. 

He was back where he started—and Morie and those two other men were still lingering around, blocking his path to the left route. Worse, Morie had caught him staring at him. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he snarled, racing towards Ignis who dashed for the last remaining option towards the right. “Forget selling him to some pervert, kill him!!” 

Again with running for his life but until he could handle the three on separate occasions, Ignis would rather bide his time. Two bandits going for him front and back was problematic enough if he didnʼt have the element of surprise. Dealing with a third one whoʼd had SOLDIER-training and mako infused into his body was worse. He wouldnʼt be surprised if a fighter like that could withstand even the most powerful _Fire_ spell he could throw at him. 

Down another ruined path was another tunnel, narrower this time, turning off to the left. Ignis twisted himself towards it—

The sound of a bang ripped across the concrete and then something sharp and warm cut him along his calf. Ignis wailed when he landed on his side and saw that there was blood on his left leg where heʼd been hit. Great, this was a problem he didnʼt need. 

He rolled off the next round of bullets until he was stumbling into the narrower tunnel, teeth bared while he limped as fast as he could. He searched for a crack in the wall or a hole in the ground, whatever he could hide in. Being wanted dead, he doubted his pursuers would give up the chase now that he had been wounded. 

Ignis found a tiny room of sorts with its door long gone, as well as the panels and wires on the wall. This would have been exclusive to servicemen if upper Sector 6 hadnʼt fallen apart like this. At the end of the tight path was a manhole that somehow still looked serviceable. 

He took a break in here, sliding down to the floor with a grunt. Shaking hands inspected the torn leg of his trousers, soaked with his blood from his fresh wound. Holding his breath, he pressed a tentative finger on it. Stinging pain shot throughout his leg, up his spine and his lungs, leaving behind a throbbing numbness when he pulled back his offensive finger. 

No bullets. Ignis wiped the tears from his eyes as he cut off the ruined cuff of his pants. No bullets meant he could heal this cleanly. 

He tossed the bloody fabric towards the manhole and summoned forth the minty warmth of a _Curaga_ spell, guiding it to his wound by a hand that glowed green. The same light swam like liquid around his red calf, soothing the pain little by little until all that was left was a tingling memory of the worst of it. The wound was still there but at least it had clotted. 

Now Ignis could focus on recollecting himself, hiding his face behind his hands where he allowed himself to sob for exactly five seconds, just enough to get the pressure off his chest. So much for self-preservation. For surviving on his own, with nothing but his wits and prudence in the cruelty of the slums. This was time he was wasting, time he _didnʼt_ have to be wasting if he had only listened to his better senses and turned his nose away from…from all this! Morie, Claymore…shit, even Gladio! Even Gladio who was the best thing that had happened to him in a long while. 

At the end of those 5 seconds, he picked himself back up and inspected the tunnel outside his hole. Morie and the others were still not around but gauging by the echo of their footfalls, they would be upon him soon. He would have to get himself out of his hiding place before they trapped him here. 

He brought his phone out of his pocket. He would need some light for what he needed to do—

Gladio was calling. 

His fingers moved quickly before his reason could challenge them against following his heart. Ignis put the phone on his ear, trying to suppress the trembling in his voice while Gladio breathed a sigh of relief on the other line. 

“ _I thought youʼd never pick up. Where are you? I called the front desk and they said you werenʼt there._ ” 

“Gladio!” Ignis choked, squeezing his eyes shut in a bid to get a hold of his nerves. “Gladio, I donʼt know where I am…!” He listened to the heavy pause in the other line. When it became too much, a tight sob escaped his throat. 

“ _W, w, what do you mean you donʼt know where you are? Where are you? I, I mean what do you see around you?_ ” 

“I might still be in Sector 6,” Ignis choked, looking back over his shoulder. “Under the expressway. Listen, Gladio, Iʼm trying to get to you but it wonʼt be easy and I have to go soon. Morie and his men will be here if I stay any longer.”

“ _Morie—Morie?! Shit…shit, look—l, look, Iʼll come and get you. O, okay?_ ” Gladioʼs voice was shaking now. Ignis nodded to his absent boyfriend. “ _Find a hiding place and stay there. Tell me where you are, Iʼll come find you! Iʼm leaving now. Okay, Ignis?_ ” 

“Okay,” Ignis gasped, nodding still. “Iʼll see you, Iʼll wait for you.” 

“ _Okay, good, good. Wait for me, Ignis, Iʼm coming for you._ ” The call ended. That was 42-seconds long, his screen told him. All-in-all, heʼd wasted nearly a minute of his time. He had to go, he had to go now. 

With his dagger, he struck the old padlock off the heavy metal lid and opened up the manhole. He would leave it like that with the hope of diverting their attention or maybe splitting them up while he made his own escape. 

After a final check, Ignis stepped back out into the tunnel and hurried through it.

—

He didnʼt know how long he had been running, or hiding in that little pocket of space which looked like a cave wrought from debris and the iron rods that still connected them to a larger road overhead. But somehow, it was enough time for him to fall asleep.

Ignisʼ rising panic roused him back up to alertness. He inspected himself and his surroundings but discovered nothing new. Save for two scratches along his arms when he failed to evade a flying monster and the ugly scar on his calf where heʼd been shot, he had no other injuries to take notice of. 

He allowed himself a shallow sigh of relief, brought his phone out to look at it again but found nothing new from Gladio. Then again, signal was low in that part of the expressway. 

He cursed under his teeth, hit his head lightly on the wall. What should he do? Should he move again and try to get closer to the surface? How was that possible if he was already at what would have been the surface! 

“Here, did we check this part out?” Fuck, they were here. 

“I donʼt care, check it again!” And Morie was still with them. 

Ignis didnʼt know what had happened when he had lost them but it sounded to him like there were more footsteps than what he last remembered. When he cautioned a peek through the opening, he noted that there were five of them again, coming from the back. Should he have tried and killed them when there were just three of them, after all? 

His phone started to vibrate in his hand. Gladioʼs winning smile was back on his screen. Ignis answered in the next heartbeat. 

“ _Ignis! Ignis, Iʼm almost there, just stay put—_ ” 

“Thereʼs no time, Gladio,” Ignis cut him off, hissing through his teeth. “Theyʼre here. I have to move again—” 

“ _Ignis, wait—_ ” 

“If I donʼt move now, I may never move at all again.” 

“ _No, shit, donʼt say that!_ ” Ignis shut his eyes again. “ _I swear, Ignis, Iʼm already here, Iʼm already so close!_ ” 

“Hey, you guys hear that?” Spotted. 

Ignis bit back a curse. He should have been gone by now. He would have no choice but to fight for his life again. How much more until they decided he could live? He couldnʼt keep doing this all night. “Gladio…Gladio, listen to me. I may never survive tonight so before I lose my chance, I want to tell you something.” 

“ _Ignis, donʼt—_ ” 

“I love you, Gladio Hester.” Ignis ended the call and brought his daggers back out. 

A glance at his pursuers told him that they would be upon him in a minuteʼs time. Steeling his nerves, Ignis allowed himself one last heartbeat of hesitation before he brought himself back out into the open. Wide eyes caught him as he reached into his _Fire_ materia. 

Someone pointed to him. “Sir—” 

He caught him in a blast of _Fira_ , letting the wild spell take care of the rest of the group when he whirled and dashed for the other end of the road, sloping downwards. Here, those two people from earlier were coming up to him with a handgun and a quarterstaff—

A massive sword tore right through the bald gunner, sending him off his feet for a few inches until he landed dead and stunned on his side. Ignis stumbled back in surprise just as the other one gaped and stared at the fate of his companion. 

The perfect time for Gladio to come up from behind and give his neck a vicious twist. He crumpled like a broken doll next to his friendʼs pool of blood. 

Ignis waited until Gladio could slide out his sword and strike it through the concrete like a grave marker, before he allowed himself to stumble to his spot and catch him with his arms. 

Gladio latched his own around him and started to mumble his apologies. “Iʼm sorry Iʼm late, Iʼm sorry I let this happen!” He was dressed out of his Honeyboy costume, into a plain black tank top and a pair of jeans. 

“How did you find me?” Ignis gasped. 

“Iʼve gone this way before,” was all Gladio said. He brought his hands to Ignisʼ face and searched his bruises and wounds. “And you, youʼre okay? Did they hurt you? Did Morie hurt you?”

“They tried to kill me but I escaped,” Ignis breathed. “Whatʼs happening, Gladio? Why are they here?” 

“Itʼs my fault,” Gladio choked. “I didnʼt mean to get you involved, Iʼm so sorry! But Iʼll end this part right here and now. You donʼt have to run anymore. Iʼll get us out of here.” He pulled him again for another embrace. Over his shoulder, Ignisʼ eyes landed on the sword on the ground, which looked like several strips of metal of varying silver hues had been glued together, with an ornate black pipe in the middle serving as its spine. The pommel resembled an artistʼs unfinished work with rings of metal on one side and a swooping hand guard on the other. It was unlike anything Ignis had ever seen before. 

Gladio parted from him, released his sword from the ground to carry its hilt over his shoulder. Without another glance at Ignis, he made for his pursuers, with a roar from a voice Ignis had never once heard before: “ _Morie!!_ ” 

Stunned silence followed the fading of his echo, and then crackling laughter. “I canʼt believe it—is that really you?” Ignis had been right all along—they had a connection. He followed closely behind Gladio, hiding behind whatever contraption all this ruin could afford him. 

“In the flesh,” Gladio declared with a proud voice, tilting his chin up. Across him, Morie had revealed himself to be with his own sword, which reminded Ignis of what he saw Noct use in the library, only longer, thicker, with the gold pommel arching downwards to protect the hand but much smaller still compared to Gladioʼs blade. 

From the corner of his eyes, Ignis found one last bandit, unburnt by his fire spell, raising his gun to Gladioʼs direction. He tossed one of the daggers he held and leapt to kick the blade straight to him. 

Steel pierced through throat, and the man fell without a fight. Ignis meant to hit his chest but whatever, a mortal blow was a mortal blow. 

Morie became distracted briefly by this new death, and then he was laughing again, facing them. He gestured towards Ignis who stayed back from their fight. By now, both swordsmen had met in the middle, standing far enough to leave some space for their swords. “So who is he to you?” 

“Someone whose life means more to me than yours.” Gladio shifted one foot back, poised ready to strike at a momentʼs notice. 

Morie held his sword between him while he giggled on. “I shouldʼve killed him myself, then. Guess thatʼs what Iʼll do before I end you permanently.” 

Gladio coughed out a beat of laughter when he smiled. “Think youʼre still better than me? You couldnʼt even do it when I was a pup.” 

“Guess Iʼll just have to wipe that smirk off your face, then!” Morie came at him with a spinning overhead strike. 

Gladio backed up a step while he pulled his own sword down and raised it high to block the attack. Loud steel rang deafeningly against the concrete that surrounded them. Both men spun and swung their blades at each other, throwing them out with roars and grunts, each one ending with a bang of metal. 

A small voice inside Ignis realized that this was the first time he was watching Gladio fight with a sword, and he looked perfectly in his element. With his hands commanding the blade, it became an extension of his entire body, acting as both shield and offense, never too far from him no matter where he whirled, rolled or jumped. 

A downward cut sent Morie toppling to the ground. In the break of steel, his sharp coughing racked clearly and loudly. Gladio marched backwards a couple of steps, sword resting easily on his thick shoulder again. “You,” he wheezed, “youʼre a lot stronger than before.” 

“Itʼs the cellular degradation,” Gladio answered without humor. “While I spent all these years training myself, your body has been rotting from the inside, letting the mako gobble it up like a parasite.” He stood again at the ready when Morie picked himself back up. “Yʼainʼt special, Morie. Shinra would sooner leave you for dead than nurse you back to health.” 

“Not until I take you with me!” Morieʼs roar was harsh when he came at Gladio again. The quarreling swords were back, feet and blades shuffling and scratching on the concrete while they parried blows. Several times, Morie had tried to upset his balance with low strikes or angry shoves but Gladio would always regain himself. 

Even Ignis who knew little of swordfights knew who the clear winner was, but that didnʼt mean he could allow himself to breathe again while he watched them dance in some lopsided manner. 

“All those drugs youʼre takinʼ to extend your life arenʼt doing you shit right now!” Gladio jeered at him as they caught each other in another blade lock. “Think I donʼt know about ‘em? Iʼve been watching you from the shadows longer than Iʼve been laying down my traps!” 

“Think youʼre so good, huh?” Morie seethed. “Just ‘cause you were lucky enough to live again doesnʼt mean you wonʼt die!” He smashed his head up against Gladioʼs face. 

Gladio stumbled backwards, blinking the stars out of his eyes, looking in time to see Morie leaping for him with a downward strike. Ignis reached into his _Fire_ materia again. It would be a risk, Gladio could get hurt, but hurt was better than dead—

Gladio rolled off to his side, bringing Morie down on an empty spot on the concrete. With a cry of his own, he spun backwards, pulling his blade for an upward cut. 

He caught Morie just as the man rose to face him, his blade biting into his right stomach, up to his left shoulder. The impact was such that the man had been sent flying, and Ignis had to turn away from the spatter of blood that reached him. 

He crashed onto a pile of debris stacked up against the wall. That deep gash that nearly split his body in two oozed with a dark liquid. As for his glowing blue eyes, they stared up lifelessly to the ceiling. 

Gladio exhaled loudly while he struck down his weapon onto the ground again. There were crimson spots on himself, too, but he ignored them when he reached for Ignis while he approached. “Lend me your knife.” 

“What will you do?” Ignis handed him his dagger, hilt first. 

“Gonna make sure heʼs dead.” 

“Heʼs _already_ dead, Gladio,” Ignis said to him, tossing his hand to the broken body. “No man can survive that!” 

“No.” Gladioʼs voice growled softly in his throat as he approached his former enemy. “Thatʼs a mistake you canʼt ever make. Remember that, Ignis.” Grabbing Morie by the hair, he tilted his head up and sliced a deep cut into his neck. Fresh blood spilled out through the lip. 

Ignis couldnʼt take this anymore. He turned away before he gave up anything he might still be keeping in his stomach. When Gladio came back to him, his blade had been cleaned up of any traces the killing cut would have left. He retrieved it from him with a trembling hand. 

“Itʼs done,” Gladio told him. “Morieʼs done, we can go home now. Youʼre safe.” Safe…but how could he say that for sure? 

The smell of tangy iron and something else, mixing with the toasted scent of burnt flesh filled Ignisʼ nose, pressing on his lungs and his guts like a heavy weight. The stillness was unreal, and he forgot what it even felt like to be out of that concrete limbo anymore. His left hand grasped weakly on Gladioʼs chest. 

“Ignis?” Gladio whispered to him softly as he touched his elbows. 

And then everything went black.


	13. Chapter 13

He feels heavy, like the darkness is weighing down on him. It smells of potion, lavender and sweet, spicy musk. His favorite scents except for the one. The floorboard is moving, shuffling heavily as if someone unseen were tracing circles along his path. Telling him that he misses him. So much. 

Silly Gladio. Hadnʼt they just been together?

But he misses him, too. If that will make him feel better. 

“Huh? Yeah—yeah!” Gladio laughs, but it feels heavy. “Yeah, Iʼm fine, ‘course Iʼm fine. I just…I just wanna hear your voice, yʼknow?” Ah, and therein lay the problem. Because no matter how much he tries to make a sound with his throat, he canʼt seem to— “Feels real quiet without anyone talking my ears off. Blabbering about elder this, planetology that…” He laughs again, and this time it feels more real. “My boyfriend? Nah, heʼs the quiet sorts. Feels nice for a change.” 

That was when Ignis realized that he hadnʼt been dreaming all this time. 

“Man, I canʼt wait for you to finally meet. Heʼs…” Gladio turned to him, phone on his ear. His eyes went wide. “Crap, heʼs awake! I gotta go, Iʼll call you back. Stay safe, okay?” He hung up, jamming his phone into his back pocket as he tripped his way to his side, landing on his knee. “Ignis! Finally…” Finally? 

How long was he out? Ignis curled his brows, or tried to, and started to speak but between a tongue that felt bloated and heavy and a throat that was as dry as Scrap Boulevard, it was an impossible effort. Could Gladio do something about that? 

As expected of his wonderful boyfriend, he could. There was a sparkle in his lovely eyes before he got up and clambered for the door. “Hey,” Ignis heard him saying, “Heʼs up. Could I get some ice? And the soup, yeah…thanks. I owe ya guys.” He closed the door, hurried back to Ignis as if he might fall asleep again if he didnʼt hold his hand soon. 

_Who?_ Ignis asked with his lips. 

“Your neighbors all gathered to help us settle down.” Gladio offered a smile that soothed Ignis. “Mightʼve caused a scene carrying you home last night. The whole Neighborhood Watchʼs up in arms.” 

_Wymer?_ Ignis tried to give voice to that question but could only manage a quivering moan. 

“What was that?” Gladio leaned close enough to put his ear to his parched lips. Ignis tried again but the most he could manage was a weak murmur. “Hey, itʼs fine. No need to push yourself.” He pulled himself back up, but not so much that he was no longer inches away from Ignisʼ nose. “You went through hell last night so your bodyʼs really weak right now.” 

Ignis nudged his head up and down ever so slightly. 

“Iʼm just glad youʼre finally awake,” Gladio laughed softly. “I missed your eyes, Ignis.” 

For that, Ignis smiled weakly. 

The door opened again. Someone passed a glass of iced water to Gladio. 

“Here.” Taking one of the floating cubes, he pressed it gently to his lips. The shock of cold was an unpleasant discomfort, almost painful. Ignis twisted his features and tried to avert his face—if only he didnʼt lack the energy for it. “Sorry. I know itʼs cold but we gotta get some water in you, and this is the easiest way to do it.” 

Ignis understood, of course, he wasnʼt some naive child who cried because he wanted to play but scraped his knee. His head still weighed like the entire upper plate but he managed to force himself to nod, just to show his compliance and that he wasnʼt entirely hopeless. Lying still, he parted his lips, signaling his boyfriend that he was ready for a second cube. 

And then the soup came soon enough, heralded by gentle knocks and a soft voice that beckoned for Gladioʼs attention. The moment he opened the door, Ignis caught the savory notes of pepper and ginger, which smelled like sweet ambrosia to his weary soul. The perfect recipe to rouse his sleeping stomach into a growling mood. 

For the first time since he woke up, he let out a deep, heartfelt moan.

—

“Figures if thereʼs anything thatʼll get you going, itʼs a hot bowl of soup.”

Ignis still felt weak and heavy, propped up like a mannequin on his pillow, but when he smiled, he could confidently say that he looked better than a body in the morgue. “Itʼs the MSG,” he explained. Then leaned a little towards the spoon that Gladio served him. “Must you use a teaspoon, though?” 

“Canʼt risk it, Ignis.” Gladio stirred up the broth, bits and pieces of soggy leaves and strips of egg coming up to the surface. “You need to build up your strength and diarrhea wonʼt be the way to do it.” 

“I know that,” Ignis chuckled, hoping to reassure his boyfriend with his paper-thin capacity for humor. “But try not to let me die of starvation before I finish the whole thing.” 

“Oh, cʼmon,” Gladio snorted, running the bottom of the spoon carefully along the rim of his bowl before he raised it to Ignis who consumed it readily. “Have some egg, then.” 

“Are you sure there isnʼt so much as a shred of Chocobo in there?” 

“What?” Gladio lifted the bowl slightly. “The egg came from a Chocobo.” Ignis rolled his eyes in bemusement. “Itʼs protein, too. Besides, it wasnʼt like you could tell me what you wanted while you were sleeping. So, I just asked your neighbor to do her best.” 

Ignis nodded. It was understandable, of course, that he couldnʼt have a say in this. A glance at his clock told him it was already past lunch. And yet Gladio was still there—dressed in a new tank top but he could tell by the size of his eyes and the redness of his eyebags that he hadnʼt slept at all. Or gone home at all, even. 

Ignis offered his heavy hands. “Give me the bowl. You need to get going now.” 

“I told them I wonʼt be coming in.” 

“Come now, Gladio,” Ignis sighed, hands falling. “Youʼve already run off last night, you canʼt push them again.” 

“Not like I can dance at this rate,” Gladio explained. “I didnʼt get to sleep much at all, and Iʼll only be thinking about you. Iʼm better off sitting here next to you than wishing that I was.” Put it that way, he definitely made the most sensible decision. Even though no one asked him to push himself like this but Ignis wasnʼt going to pretend to be naive and ask him why. 

He knew he ought to be grateful, but he didnʼt want to just take this sacrifice lightly. He and Gladio werenʼt rich men and Gladio hadnʼt even been employed for a year. Someone like that, Andrea might just easily replace, and Gladio would be powerless to stop that. But what could he do? Gladio wasnʼt wrong for making this decision, either. While Ignis was confident he could recuperate on his own, he knew he wasnʼt fit enough to be making such hasty decisions. Besides…Gladioʼs comforting presence was…his most preferred remedy of all. And since he wasnʼt well, it would only be proper to give himself the best medicine that could be afforded to him. Right? 

He glanced at the palms of his hands, blistering on some parts. “Well, since youʼre already here…perhaps I could ask you to stay until I fall asleep again tonight?” His voice was small in his acceptance. 

He looked up in time to catch Gladio smile and nod. “You know I would stay the night if I could,” he rumbled. 

“Would that I had the space for it.” Ignis looked around his tiny unit, passing his writing desk with the hardy yellow flowers, the oil diffuser from where the smell of lavender seeped and then Gladioʼs sword, leaning by the wall. Clean and glimmering despite the life it had taken yesterday. 

He turned to catch a spoon near his lips and opened his mouth to take it. “So…what happened last night? After…” After Morie was killed. “…you finished the fight?” 

“You fainted.” Gladio was stirring the broth again, the tip of his spoon scraping the bottom. “I carried you and brought you here. When I arrived, your friends at the Watch were already on alert. Two of them followed along as escorts, said you knew their boss.” 

Ignis nodded. “When the men came to my door, I ran away and shouted for Wymer. He must have sent my attackers off while we were gone.” 

“Theyʼre really the reliable sorts,” Gladio observed, feeding him another spoon. 

“I was really scared,” Ignis went on after he swallowed the soup. “All I knew was that I couldnʼt let myself get caught so I was hoping Wymer could get in the way.” But then he got on the train and they raced him to Sector 5, as if they knew his movements… 

“Who were they, Gladio?” he asked, frowning. “How did you get to know them?” 

“I didnʼt,” Gladio admitted, voice low and quiet, eyes on the soup while he stirred. “Morie was the only guy I knew. He was…” Ignis took the bowl from him, and this time he let him have it. “He was erm…someone I needed to pay back.” Ignis remembered that heʼd mentioned someone similar in the _Corneo Colosseum_. 

Ignis put down the bowl to his lap after a noisy slurp. It was still warm but if he didnʼt finish it faster, it would cool down soon and he would no longer want it. “I thought you meant to pay him back with money.” 

Gladio smirked. “I needed the money for somethinʼ else.” 

“How did you come to meet him?” 

“Got in his way.” Gladio shrugged. “Then he tried to kill me but couldnʼt see it through.” 

“Why?” Ignis pressed on. “Did he hurt you? Did he take away something that was important to you?” 

Gladioʼs eyes fell to his lap and nodded. “He did.” 

“Which?” 

“Both of them.” 

So his anger ran deep. Ignis understood now why Gladio had killed him so brutally while he had the chance, why he had been stalking him for this opportunity. It was obvious to Ignis now that he was the man behind Exoticaʼs downfall. There was no need for Gladio to spell it out. 

Ignis finished the bowl and handed it off to Gladio who moved to his writing desk where he left it. In the meantime, he moved closer to the wall and patted the space next to him. Gladio stopped briefly, eyes on his hand. Then sat himself by his bedside to remove his boots and his socks. 

As soon as he got comfortable, Ignis draped himself over his front, and Gladio could wriggle deeper on the bed so that he wasnʼt in danger of falling off. A heavy arm landed along his back. Ignis started to caress his boyfriendʼs cheek, feeling the scar under his thumb while Gladio brushed the back of his hair. He laid his head on his thick chest, gazing closely into his coffee eyes. 

“I never got to thank you for being there last night,” he mumbled, pointing finger tracing the shape of his lips idly. “Had you not come, I donʼt know where Iʼll be today.” 

“Remember what I said?” Gladio put on a small smile. “Just call me and Iʼll come save ya.” 

“I remember now,” Ignis replied. He couldnʼt think about such sweet nothings while his life was on the line, of course. 

Gladio tried for a brighter smile but sooner gave up the effort until it faltered altogether. “Iʼm sorry I got you involved.” 

“Do you think they targeted me because of my connection with you?” Ignis frowned. “But Morie seemed surprised to see you there last night.” 

Gladioʼs brows fell briefly. “But I canʼt think of any other reason why theyʼd target you specifically. If he sent his men here, then that means he knows youʼre not rich enough for ransom. You sure you havenʼt met him before?” Ignis shook his head. “Did he…did he say anything?” 

“He was on the phone with a boss,” Ignis shared. “And this boss…” He wondered who he could be…had an inkling of an idea but it seemed so farfetched, he might finally accuse himself of being delusional. But the assets…it listed the auction house and Exotica…but _why_? “…wanted me to disappear, so they were determined to kill me last night. There were,” he frowned bitterly at the memory, “several options discussed about what could be done about my body but the consensus was death.” 

Gladio hissed out a curse, drew him closer and planted his lips on his head. 

“Well, I killed them first,” Ignis mumbled to his chest. “I killed all of them first. Well, most.” 

“Shouldʼve known not to mess with ya.” Gladio tried to smile. “You shouldnʼt have gone through any of that but Iʼm glad you didnʼt hold back.” 

“As if I could,” Ignis chuckled, cuddling him closer. “I…may have made several mistakes these past few weeks. Perhaps Iʼd gotten involved in the wrong situations, but that doesnʼt mean I would just curl up and die for them. I didnʼt raise myself like that. And since Iʼve already made these mistakes, I might as well live with them.” 

“You’re so damn brave, Ignis,” Gladio chuckled. “Brave and handsome.” 

Ignis gazed up at him. 

“I love you, too,” Gladio went on. “Just in case that ainʼt obvious yet. Youʼre the best thing thatʼs happened to me in a while.” 

Ignis smiled for that. “Still, itʼs nice to hear it out loud.” He raised himself and pressed a kiss on Gladioʼs lips. If he could be honest, he wasnʼt sure that he loved the man, truly loved the man, last night when he said it. Stuck in a conundrum because of his stupid accidents, Ignis only knew that he would miss him terribly if he lost his life then and there, and he would be terribly sorry for it. 

Things were different now. Now he understood that Gladio had become as important to him as his own life was. All those sleepless nights, those dark moments when he sought his comfort and found it, and did Gladio not risk himself for him, too, several times now? If that wasnʼt love…and if that still didnʼt make Gladio deserving of his own love…well, then Ignis didnʼt care anymore what his mind told him. 

Gladio was a mistake, true. But he would rather be punished for keeping him than not at all.

—

It took Ignis another day at home before he could trust himself not to suddenly faint from weakness in the middle of the office. As for the fight along the Sector 6 expressway, it was dismissed as a violent clash between two gangs.

The days went on as if nothing had happened, then. In the office, Noct continued with his internship under Ignis while Prompto had started to take pictures of damaged public property, wherever there was a complaint lodged. Ferro himself seemed to lay low, finally—though they only met once when Ferro was getting on the elevator and Ignis was getting off. The last thing he remembered about him was the way his eyes grew, then frowned as he marched past him, back to his own business. As if Ignisʼ presence alone was enough to ruin his entire day. 

As for Gladio, he had returned to his sweet messages, but there was no hiding the serious tone they came with now. And he demanded constant updates of Ignisʼ movements at night. 

_Suppose we go out for a meal tomorrow evening?_ Ignis suggested one night, while he was on his way home. The presence of the Neighborhood Watch was still very obvious, nearly a week after Ignisʼ kidnapping. _I'd like to meet you again on a much better occasion, and then maybe something more after._

_Suppose I pick you up at the station?_ Gladio winked. _We're short-staffed so they pulled me from the line-up and put me on massage duty tomorrow._ That meant he could get off work earlier. 

_Great!_ Ignis smiled brightly as he typed out his reply. _Shall I get off Sector 5 station?_

_Sure,_ Gladio agreed. _This time the only thing that'll wait for you is a BIG big hug!!_

He got that plus a fat, wet kiss on his cheek as soon as he got off. Then arm-in-arm, they boarded a Chocobo carriage and returned to Wall Market where they had fusion and then some drinks. 

Ignis was pleasantly buzzed by the time they had left, which made it easier for him to giggle and grin as they walked back hand-in-hand to the Chocobo stable. 

“Whatʼs so funny?” Gladio laughed with him, sounding quite pleasantly tickled. 

“Itʼs been a week since… _that_ thing happened,” Ignis began. “And yet here we are, still alive and together.” 

“You’re surprised?” Gladio chuckled. “But yeah. Thatʼs worth celebrating.” 

“Shall we get more drinks, then?” Ignis pressed himself closer to Gladioʼs side. “Iʼm quite sure we passed a small mart just now.” 

“You _still_ thirsty?” Gladio grinned back. “Makinʼ me wonder if I ought to feel inadequate.” He was snickering when Ignis wrinkled his nose and slapped him lightly on his pecs. “Well, I guess itʼs hard to satisfy you.” 

“I donʼt want you just yet, obviously.” Ignis rolled his eyes. “Who eats desserts along with the main course?” Gladio guffawed at his perfect analogy, assuming it made sense to someone sober. 

They turned back, then. Ignis glanced off to his empty left, down a bright pathway flanked by closed doors and quieter businesses. 

“Ignis?” Gladio stopped, looking closely to him. “Found something?” Figures he would be on heightened alert about creeping shadows, as well. 

“Nothing,” Ignis answered, shaking his head, still with a smile on his own face. “Perhaps itʼs just paranoia.” 

Gladio breathed out softly. “Then letʼs get those drinks and bust on outta here. Canʼt wait to get in bed with you.” It made them both laugh, dispelling any tension that may have threatened to ruin the atmosphere. 

They found the mart soon enough just as Ignis laid a hand on his silent pocket. “Ah, thatʼs me, indeed. Gladio, could I trouble you to take care of the drinks for now? Iʼll just take this call. Get some chocolates while youʼre at it.” He brought out his phone, the dark screen turned away from his boyfriend. 

“Hey, donʼt go too far, okay?” Gladio called from inside the store. If it hadnʼt been for their traumatic shared experience, Ignis might have laughed at his overprotection. 

“I wonʼt be long,” Ignis promised him before he dipped his head and pretended to answer the call. He kept his eyes on his boyfriend perusing the fridge full of bottles at the side, and waited until he turned his back, heading for the chocolates section before he started for the alleyway at the side in urgent marching steps. Something scrabbled in the shadows as if in a panic. Ignis knew it, they hadnʼt been alone all this time—

It was an old voice that wailed when he grabbed his stalker by the back of his collar and threw him to the wall. Before he could raise his hands to protect himself, Ignis trapped him with his forearm on his chest and one of his daggers pointed directly to his throat. “Not quite so subtle now, are we?” he growled. 

“No, Sir!” the old man cried, voice breaking in fear. “Please, Sir, mercy!l” When he grabbed for his restraining wrist, he kept his fingernails to himself, and his grip was weak. 

This was no spy or stalker. This was just…literally, this was just an old man following them around. Ignis stared at him, caught between confusion and frustration. “Who—” 

“ _Ignis, wait!!_ ” 

Ignis had never heard Gladioʼs voice stretched out in panic until then. He backed up, coming freely with that hand that pulled him off from the old man until there was enough space for the wide-eyed Gladio to come between them. He had his arms stretched outwards, a clear message that the stranger was under his protection. 

“Donʼt hurt him, heʼs fine, heʼs safe!” Gladio blurted out in one breath. His friend fitted himself behind his wide shoulders to hide from Ignisʼ threat. “You can put your dagger down.” 

“Who is he?” Despite his distrustful question, Ignis slipped back his knife as he requested. 

“H, he,” Gladio glanced briefly behind his shoulders, “he—is my dad.” His _who_? 

“Your _father_?” Even in Ignisʼ eyes, the disbelief was ever-present. He looked again at the old man who cowered behind his…supposed son. But was this true? Didnʼt Gladio say he was a criminal? So then, that meant… “I see now that when you first told me about him, that didnʼt necessarily mean that he was still…” How should he say this… 

“Yeah,” Gladio piped up, anyway, bringing down his arms. He stepped aside so they could bring back the old man into the picture. “Yeah, uh…sorry I didnʼt tell ya before.” 

“Certainly itʼs no unforgivable mistake,” Ignis mumbled. To Hester who still looked at him with horror in his eyes, he bowed respectfully. “My apologies, Sir. I allowed myself to be carried away and acted too brashly.” 

“Y, yes…o, of course.” Hester bowed back. “Certainly.” This man was his father…but which part? Ignis couldnʼt sense so much as a shred of bravado in his soft eyes. 

“Look, uh…he probably needs something from me so,” Gladio gestured deeper into the alleyway, “could I…?” 

Ignis nodded. “Of course. Iʼll just be in the mart.” Or pretend to be. 

But after he stepped out of the alley, he went back to the closest wall and watched father and sonʼs silhouette by the vague light that existed all over Wall Market. Hesterʼs head and shoulders stayed low while Gladio was scratching his head in front of him. Then he tossed his hand towards Ignis…could they be talking about him? 

There wasnʼt much to glean from the short shadow play, but it ended with Hester dipping low in front of Gladio and the man just…nodding. Like this was all to be expected. 

But was it? What cause would his father have to bow to his own son? And wasnʼt he already too old? Though he supposed it wasnʼt impossible but… 

Ignis escaped to the store for real when Hester turned to leave. Their bottles and sweets were waiting for them by the counter so Ignis took his place next to it and pretended to be busy with his phone. 

Gladio made his entrance with a jog, smiling instantly in Ignisʼ presence. “Sorry ‘bout that. Needed some cash for his meds.” 

“Oh, did you have some to give?” Ignis carried the plastic bag from the cashier, nodding in thanks to the sleepy storekeeper. 

“Just did,” Gladio said, taking the stuff from him. He lied again. Ignis never noted that much from what he saw. 

But he wouldnʼt say anything about it either. Not yet, at least. Not when he still didnʼt know who this new man was. “I see,” Ignis sighed heavily. They stepped out of the store. “How truly embarrassing. I thought he had been following us since the restaurant and so I thought…I panicked that—” 

“Hey, it ainʼt your fault,” Gladio assured him, a comforting pat on his arm. “No one can blame ya for staying on your guard. Sorry about my dad, heʼs uh…heʼs not good with asking for help. Was probably waiting for the best opportunity to call my attention, yʼknow?” 

“Still, you are his son,” Ignis pointed out. “He shouldnʼt have had to do that.” Then he pushed his lips out to make his sulking visible while he averted his eyes. “And I shouldnʼt have done that to my boyfriendʼs father. I just shot my chances at being accepted into the family, didnʼt I?” 

That made Gladio laugh, at least. He was relaxing. “Aw, cʼmon, Ignis, donʼt think that way!” 

“I will stop once I do something to undo my errors.” Ignis put on a determined voice when he faced his boyfriend. “Whatʼs his first name? Iʼd like to make him something. Perhaps one of my specialties.” 

“Ignis, donʼt worry about it,” Gladio insisted. 

“Please.” Ignis brought their hands together. “Iʼll never be able to sleep if I donʼt do this.” 

“Why are you so nice?” Gladio giggled, grinning widely. 

“Only to the people who are important to you.” Which was true for the most part. “I wouldnʼt be this persistent if he werenʼt your father, Gladio. Just please let me do this, it will be no loss for you.” So there was no reason for his boyfriend to keep refusing. If he did, then that meant there was something else… 

He wondered if Gladio must have known this when he snorted out in amusement and finally revealed, “Itʼs Garrett. Garrett Hester.” 

“Double r, double t?” 

“Yeah,” Gladio confirmed. “And heʼs allergic to shellfish so donʼt give ‘im any.”

—

That name probably echoed in Ignisʼ head for the entirety of the weekend (though there had been no room for it while he and Gladio were making out) until the whole of Monday. He went out to lunch with Noct and Prompto who submitted his first report, and then went back with his new intern who would have been caught snoring in his 2pm if Ignis hadnʼt sent him away.

At 7pm, Noct tapped him on his shoulder, then waved and gestured backwards to the door. He had his bag with him. 

Ignis was just wrapping up his phone conversation when his new intern approached him so he asked him to wait until he could hang up. “Off to dinner?” he asked, leaning back to his seat. 

“Yeah.” Noct shifted to his other leg. “Gramps is coming along, too, by the way. Which is new.” 

“Oh.” Ignisʼ brows fell. 

“But I guess Hartʼs coming along with us.” Noct shrugged. “And then Dadʼll probably invite them for a few drinks so.” So the mayor wonʼt be coming back for the day. 

“I see.” Ignis nodded. “Well, do have fun.” 

“Uh, same with you, I guess?” Noct tossed his hand. Earlier, while they were having lunch, Ignis had mentioned losing an imaginary thing and that the last time heʼd seen it was on the day they went up to the mayorʼs office. Noct promised to help him, then, by telling him when his grandfather and assistant would leave for the day and lending him his backup key. 

This was his answer. So after a few more emails and clicking here and there, pretending to be busy until the time he had set for himself, Ignis packed up, said goodbye to his teammates and made his sneaky way up to the archives. 

Just as Noct had promised, the mayor and his companion had gone for the day. He unlocked the door with the key he borrowed and made his way into the dark office. 

Ignis whistled as he dropped himself into the plush leather seat and roused the computer. It asked him for a password. 

“King, all-caps,” he muttered, gaining access after a sharp _enter_. 

The mayorʼs desktop was full of icons with no determinable arrangement whatsoever, almost obscuring a painting of him on a throne with a crown on his head. Ignis took a little longer before he managed to gain access to the registry of Midgarʼs citizens. 

After a quick personal tour around the interface, Ignis finally put in his search query: _garrett hester_. 

A total of eight individuals were thrown back to him, but none of them quite fit the bill of what Ignis was looking for, being either too young or too dead. So even here, Gladio had lied to him. When he took away the first name, though, the names the database returned had spilled out to 1,021. But of course. Hester was such a common name, what the hell was Ignis expecting?

He blew out as if to whistle, dropping backwards onto the fine leather chair. It was an impossible task, Ignis would have to spend the whole _week_ in that office to get through them all. First things first: he needed a plan. 

He started playing around again with the registryʼs features until he found a way to filter out the results by certain ways. The year of birth and sex were one of them. 

How old was he…70? 75?

Ignis put him at 68 just to be safe and received 32 results for it. Not bad. Could be better. 

There were no Garretts, of any variation whatsoever, displayed in the list. Ignis figured it wouldnʼt be a bad idea to start with names that _sounded_ like it. Barret, Darren, Harry, Jared… 

He couldnʼt believe his luck when he saw that same face smiling back at him, a bit younger than the one heʼd seen. This registry, as it turned out, was a collection of all official documents that the individual had applied for or been applied to in their whole lives as citizens of Midgar. The one he was looking at was from an application for a replacement driverʼs license. At the time it was submitted, he was only 69, and he lived in an address in upper Sector 2. According to the other certificates, he was married at 28 and had one son and two daughters. He was also employed by—

Ignis felt his jaw slacken at the by-now familiar name: _Clarus Amicitia._ So—Gladio was the son of—no, he wasnʼt. But he was somehow connected to a man who was connected to Clarus Amicitia! 

Everything was drawing back into a tight circle. Ignis went to Amicitiaʼs records and started digging through them, most prominent of which were his army records. Joined at 24, was accepted into the SOLDIER program at 37, then moved on to become 2nd Class SOLDIER at 43. As for his personal life, his wifeʼs married name was Malva Amicitia and they had two children, a boy and a girl, named… 

…named… 

…well. Now that he saw his name, Ignis wondered if he should have seen it coming from a mile away. His father was a criminal, Morie had hurt him and taken something…some _one_? Important from him…and the way he fought, how he reacted with Claymoreʼs death… 

He typed in his name, sorted through his files. They said he died in a car crash at the age of 18. He almost looked so different now from his high school photo… 

_Now, I see,_ Ignis mused, leaning back to his seat, looking at those familiar eyes. _Now I see why youʼve always lied to me._ He should be mad, he thought. He should be mad that the man heʼd gone so far for, the man who claimed to trust him 100% failed to tell him what his real name was. 

But he didnʼt have the heart. He wasnʼt the one who carried a death warrant here.

—

Morie had tried to kill him but failed, Ignis remembered hearing from that fight along the expressway. The same man must have been the one who…said he sliced him up like his father. If that was the case, then there ought to be something to be shown for it. And if that was why heʼd refused to strip off his shirt in front of him, then…

“ _Sorry about that,_ ” Gladio said when he called Ignis again, clearing his throat. Ignis put him on speaker so he could free his hands for the laptop. “ _One of my housemates brought a new…well, new used couch for the place and they needed an extra hand to get it in. Anyway…what were we saying?_ ” 

“Your free days, Gladio,” Ignis chuckled, scrolling through a gallery of colorful lodgings on his screen. He clicked on one and browsed through its amenities. 

“ _Oh yeah! Hang on…_ ” There was groaning and shuffling on the other line. “ _Uh…_ ” Gladio said over the distance before he went back to his phone. “ _Iʼm off Wednesday and Sunday._ ” Sunday would have been ideal for Ignis but he worried that if they delayed much longer, something else might come up. “ _Do you wanna do the d-thing?_ ” 

Ignis laughed to himself, smiling at the double meaning. “I was actually thinking the same. Iʼm looking at midgarmotelist.com. Shall we do Wednesday?” The one he was looking at looked like the night skies filled with fireworks, with the furniture wrought in gold and the plush surfaces covered in vivid pink and purple. There was a king-sized bed in the middle, a rocking Chocobo for extra fun times, a couch in the shape of a rocket…and then a human-sized X-board by the wall, complete with handcuffs all around. 

Ignis sighed and pressed the back button. Too much. He needed something that looked comfortable without being entirely innocent. He needed Gladio relaxed more than he needed him horny. He went back to his searching. 

“ _Wednesday, huh?_ ” Gladio spoke after a long second. “ _Just the night?_ ” 

“No, I plan to take the whole day off,” Ignis told him. “I always miss you too soon if we are only together for a few hours.” 

“ _You sure your bosses arenʼt gonna fire you for that? You just called in sick last week. We could just do Sunday._ ” Here he was again with pushing back the date. Or maybe he was just being genuinely concerned about him, of course. Ignis shouldnʼt think so poorly of him all of a sudden. 

“At worst, theyʼll just send me down the archives as a punishment,” Ignis chuckled. “Iʼll tell Director Reeve that I have an appointment.” He clicked another room, this one supposedly a dungeon in Wutai, complete with a low cage at the corner. Neither of them would even fit in there in the first place. Ignis returned to the gallery. “Which is not a lie, anyhow. Besides, without the weekend rate, the rooms will be cheaper and perhaps we can even order some room service.” 

Gladio took his turn to laugh. “ _Well…it sounds like youʼve got it all planned out. What kinda boyfriend would I be if I backed out, right?_ ” Good. 

The easiest part of Ignisʼ mission was done. “Indeed,” he said with quiet relief. “Leave everything to me, Gladio.”

—

Heʼd made sure everything was set—had done all the research he needed, an ocular inspection of the place and even accomplished some advanced work so that he wouldnʼt be missed in the office too soon.

But that night, on Tuesday, while he was packing up his things for a night away from home, Ignis was starting to have doubts. For one, the first time he did this, he hadnʼt quite realized his goal despite how memorable that night turned out to be. For another, what if he was wrong? And all this drum up would have been for nothing and he would have to explain himself. And then… 

And then, the worst: what if, after all his slyness, Gladio became angry with him? Worst, perhaps, even broke up with him for all his prying? 

It was almost enough for him to drop the black mesh thong heʼd been considering…but Ignis needed to hear the whole story. All of it, for both their sakes—and he had to make sure there was no excuse for Gladio to escape to. 

The next day… _the_ day for Ignis, they met for a late lunch (thanks to his boyfriendʼs shift) in Wall Market. Then Ignis led him up the plate in Sector 5 which carried the motel that he had selected for the both of them. The building and interior was plain-looking, like it used to house small offices in its past life. 

There was no part of it that could have told any passersby the types of rooms and customers they covered now. The one Ignis chose for them was inspired by and called _Planetology._ Tall and wide, it was covered from top to bottom in blue and littered with illustrations of galaxies, shooting stars and planets. From the door there was the jacuzzi which was made of glass (or what looked like it), the queen-sized bed and then a shower room that was also surrounded by a glass wall. If they wanted some privacy, they had a sheer curtain they could pull. 

Gladio seemed amused by Ignisʼ choice, at least. There was that smirk, those little nods, and then a deep kiss when Ignis asked him if he liked it. “Iʼm glad you took the day off,” he told him before they kissed again. 

“Would you like to take a shower first?” Ignis asked, pulling the door shut. The automatic lock whirred and chirruped after him. “Iʼll just put our things away.” And he wanted to double check their surroundings while he was at it. 

“Could just keep them in our bags, though,” Gladio suggested, though he was already stuffing his socks in his boots. “Weʼll only be here for a night.” 

“So?” Ignis started opening up secret doors to reveal the toilet, the mini-fridge, and then finally the closet. “Itʼs the longest time I get to spend with you, I want to enjoy it to the fullest.” 

Gladio chuckled, getting up on his feet. “All right, then. If thatʼs what the boss says.” He snatched one of the silver silk robes and towels from the bed and started towards the glass shower room. “Iʼll just take a shower,” he said. Once inside, he drew the curtains around him. 

“Tease,” Ignis spat, though he had expected that. 

“Gotta give you somethinʼ to look forward to, right?” Gladio laughed. 

The shower came on soon enough. Ignis had just finished storing their clothes and now he went through each panel of the wall and doors, ran his fingers along the jacuzzi, the headboards, the light switches, anything that might potentially hide something small and unwanted. 

Ignis hadnʼt quite finished with his hasty inspection yet when Gladio had stepped out of the steaming room, dressed only in the bathrobe. His own clothes, he draped along the side of the bed. Good—if worse came to worst, he could just rip that thing off with one pull. 

He hid his thong behind him when he greeted his boyfriend with another kiss, leaving his glasses with him. “Donʼt get started without me, okay?” 

“Donʼt take too long, then,” Gladio smirked just as they parted. “Hey, you wonʼt take your robe with ya?” 

“I have something better,” Ignis promised him, sparing him a smile before he stepped into the room and started to strip. He set the water to the hottest he could manage and washed himself as thoroughly as his impatient nerves let him. 

When he stepped out, Gladio was frowning deeply at the floor, and he was bouncing his knee again. A nervous tic of his. 

Ignis gave himself one last chance to turn back, counting up to five… 

He cleared his throat and started for the man who smiled at him automatically. “You look like you left the stove on at home.” 

“Nah, I was just…” Finally, those eyes grew when he noticed just what, and what little Ignis was wearing. “Holy _fuck_ , Ignis,” he gasped, drawn obviously to his barely hidden dick. “You look…damn, I wanna eat you up! You actually keep that kinda thing in your closet?” 

“Hardly the most surprising secret I own,” Ignis chuckled, setting his trap when he straddled Gladioʼs lap. He shifted closer and rolled his hips forward so he could grind himself on his boyfriendʼs stomach, hands on his broad shoulders. He let out a soft moan. 

Gladioʼs warm, rough hands landed on his exposed ass cheeks, one of his fingers already teasing the slender fabric along the crack between them. “So do you want me to fuck you while youʼre wearing this thing? ‘cause that falls right in my definition of hot.” 

It made Ignis laugh in his breath, smiling widely enough and even stirring at the thought of being pounded in that very expensive lingerie. He was finally getting his moneyʼs worth for it. Not only would it give him a fantastic time, it had aided him with an idea. “Let’s do one thing we want to do to each other. Iʼll let you fuck me in this lingerie however you want.” His hand fell on Gladioʼs heart. His robe. “But I want to see whatʼs inside here. I want to see you completely naked.” 

He caught the little bud of alarm on Gladioʼs eyes before his boyfriend scoffed and laughed at his proposal. “Thatʼs it?” he asked. Ignis could tell he would try to bluff his way through. 

Ignis nodded. “Shall I take this off, then?” His fingers folded over both sides of the lapel. 

Gladioʼs hands snapped swiftly along his wrists to hold them in place. “Wait—now?”

“Please donʼt tell me youʼre going to fuck me with that ridiculous thing on.” Ignis frowned. Hoped he didnʼt look so dark as to ruin the playful mood. He needed to keep things light, to keep Gladio nice and easy. “At least tell me why you hesitate.” 

“Iʼm…” Gladio was going to try and say that he wasnʼt but he had no excuse, no alibi to hide behind. He averted his gaze, frowning, too. 

Ignis sighed as he watched him closely. “Do you not trust me, Gladio?” 

Gladio nodded. “I do. But…” He shook his head. “It…it ainʼt that easy. I canʼt explain yet—” 

“You donʼt have to explain why,” Ignis interrupted him. “I…I think I know why. I just need to see to be sure.” 

Gladioʼs eyes whipped at him in a wide stare. “W, what do you mean…how did you…?” This was it. No turning back. 

“I saw your death certificate,” Ignis whispered. He waited for Gladio to say something…anything but somehow, the news of having been found out was a lot worse than he could imagine. 

So much worse that Gladio had nearly pushed him off his lap if Ignis hadnʼt cried in shock and latched on to those wrists. Then when Ignis did start to get up, those same fingers grabbed him fiercely by his shoulders, like he was going to rip him in two like bread. “Gladio,” Ignis tried to reach him again, bending as much as he could to meet him in the eye though he looked elsewhere in the room. “Gladio, there are no CCTVs in this room, no hidden mics or cameras. I checked it twice to be sure. Itʼs just me, Gladio. Do you not trust me?” 

“Thatʼs not it, Ignis,” Gladio hissed. 

“If you are angry at me, then I understand,” Ignis pressed on. “Had I had a different choice, I would have wanted that but I could not go on being kept in the dark much longer! My life has already become entangled with yours, I had to do something to protect us both.” 

“Dammit, Ignis, thatʼs what I was supposed to be doing!” He bared his teeth at him but there was something already broken with the way those fiery ambers glared at him. “I didnʼt wanna keep this a secret for shits and giggles, I wanted to keep you while Iʼm keeping you away from my troubles! And youʼre not the only one whose life is on the line here. If…if they ever find out that I came back—” 

“Then Iʼll kill them,” Ignis snarled, looking him in the eye when he spoke those words. “Iʼll kill them first.” 

That was like a wind that blew the fire from Gladioʼs eyes. The way he looked at him in shock, whispering his name, Ignis realized it must have been because no one had ever dared to vow so fiercely in front of him. Had he gotten used to living without a protector, only someone to protect? People like him… 

They were exactly why Ignis had taken up the blades in his youth. “When I said I loved you, I meant every promise of it. I do trust you, and I will protect you—”

“Trust?” Gladio chuckled weakly. “You didnʼt even know who I was when we first met.” 

“I knew you were a good man,” Ignis answered him. “Your heart needed no name, Gladio. And now I know it, and so does my own heart.” He carried his hands to cup Gladioʼs jawline, and looked deeply into his eyes. 

“I know who you are…Gladiolus Amicitia.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> erring on the side of caution, i added _sexual assault_ and _threats of rape/non-con_ to the tags! also if you find any more content warnings i should have tagged, pls lmk! our sensitivities are different 👍🏼

“So,” Gladio cleared his throat, voice heavy, “how did you find out?” 

Ignis wore a somber smile on his face when he answered: “Garrett Hester.” 

After Ignis had revealed his knowledge of Gladioʼs secret identity, he allowed the man a few minutes of silence while he busied himself with putting on his silver robe and then perusing the fridge. It was empty inside but on the shelf above it were two bottles of water. 

Ignis brought these both to the bed when he took his place beside his boyfriend, who only held his bottle like some toy for playing. For some time, all they did was sit like a pair of kids, waiting for the other to make the move and apologize. 

“I already had doubts he was your father,” he went on when Gladio kept his silence. “I thought he seemed too old, and too meek. So I looked for him in the registry of Midgarʼs citizens.” 

“Oh.” Gladio coughed out an empty laughter. 

“Found a Jared Hester that looked exactly like him,” Ignis continued. “From there, I saw he was employed by Clarus Amicitia. From there, I saw that he had a son and a daughter.” 

“You got all that,” Gladio finally turned to face him, “from a false name?” 

“I had questions of my own looking for their answers,” Ignis explained. “How you fought so well, why you seemed so traumatized by Claymoreʼs death,” a dead giveaway Gladio wasnʼt proud of, judging by the way he averted his eyes again, “how come Iʼve never seen you naked yet.” 

“Canʼt believe I lost to a horny man.” 

They both snickered, Ignis kicking Gladio on his calf. At least the man was smiling, though it could look brighter. 

“I had heard that someone had tried to silence the son in the same way that he had silenced the father,” Ignis added after another moment. “A mortal wound from the left side to the right chest. Names can be changed, faces can look different. But scars…” 

Gladio nodded. “You carry them to your grave. In your mind, your heart, your skin.” He brought his hands to his robe, and before Ignisʼ very eyes, peeled it back. “Especially one as damning as this.” 

He was so predictable, but nothing could have stopped Ignis from leaning to look closer in unabashed curiosity, and then drawing back just as quickly to hiss. It was…a lot worse than he had ever imagined. Where Gladioʼs scars on his face were clean, if worrying, lines, this one, the one on his chest was… 

Angry. Ugly. A mark of his would-have-been murdererʼs hatred, a history of what Gladio had to survive just to be sitting next to him. Long and sharp, it was jagged in its course, darker than the pink of his skin and lumpy. 

When Ignis felt it lightly with the tips of his fingers, the first time he had ever touched Gladioʼs secret, he asked him, “What happened when you got this?” 

Gladioʼs eyes were drawn to the same contact. Had anyone else come as close as him? “Itʼs…a long story,” he said. Like a warning. 

Ignis offered him a little smile. “I did take the day off,” he reminded him, for which he earned another breathy laughter. 

Gladio was quiet for another long second, wondering where to begin. “Dadʼs been a part of SOLDIER for about as long as I can remember. It was the greatest source of his pride, like he even used to tell us that we ought to be proud to be a part of the Amicitia family. When I was 13, he started teaching me and my little sister martial arts. Well,” he smirked slightly, “mostly just me. Iris just wanted to do what Big Brother did.” 

“How precious it must have been to have had a little sister,” Ignis thought aloud, wistful. 

“Yeah,” there was a little bubble of joy in his voice when Gladio agreed, a touch of yearning in his smile. “Itʼs a lot of things. Sheʼs the only family I have left.” 

A surprise good news, in an otherwise sordid tale. Ignisʼ mouth fell open. “She lived!” 

Gladio nodded, still with that proud look. “Ever since I was a kid, Dad had wanted me to follow his footsteps. I was ready to join the army like him but when I was 15, everything changed all of a sudden. Dad brought me to his office and made me promise I would never join the army, much less SOLDIER. When I asked him why, he said it was full of corruption, and it was bad enough that we Amicitia had become connected to it.” 

“Is this…” Ignis began. “The Wutai War?” 

“Yeah.” Gladio nodded. 

“I heard that your father was quite popular among his men.” Ignis tilted his head slightly to one side. “And among the enemy.”

Gladio grinned slightly at that. “Everyone on our side loved him, but Wutai feared and respected him. Heʼd won most of his battles, had the least casualties in his unit, and then he treated the POWs as humans. Dadʼs always been a stickler for what was righteous, what was honorable.” That long sigh through his nostrils signaled Ignis that the worse was about to happen. “He got close to some of the POWs. That was how he found out that the Shinra Company had been supplying them their weapons through a broker. A 3rd Class SOLDIER who had a cut in the dealings.” 

“Morie,” Ignis answered. Gladio confirmed it with a nod. “But…he didnʼt expose him?” 

“Sometimes I wish he did,” Gladio admitted. “But I know that even if he knew what was going to happen to him, he wouldnʼt have stopped, or changed what heʼd done. Dadʼs stubborn like that.” He chuckled. “Heʼs never failed to remind me that if I started something, I had to finish it. So…” He shrugged. “I guess thatʼs why Iʼm here. Itʼs what he would have wanted to do in his lifetime. ” 

“So thatʼs why Morieʼs death was so important to you,” Ignis mused. “Iʼd thought it was just anger and revenge…” He shook his head. “I never realized there was a legacy at stake, too.” 

“Morie wasnʼt selling those weapons on his own. Dad realized this, thatʼs why he didnʼt bother to cut the weed, he wanted to pull out the root,” Gladio went on. “So, he investigated…found the master who held the leash and got discharged for raising hell about it.” He shrugged, pulling his lips sideways. Nothing they could have done or could do about it. “Guess itʼs too much time and money for a proper investigation. If word ever got out that Shinra was helping Wutai fight Shinra for some extra profit, theyʼd lose more than just public sympathy.”

“But they did accuse your father of doing so.”

“Yeah, but they made him work alone,” Gladio pointed out. 

Ignis drew his brows together for a frown. He supposed it made sense to turn Clarus into the sole enemy but if that was the case… “Iʼm surprised they didnʼt decide to just silence him right then and there.” 

“Pays to be popular,” Gladio smirked. “If they killed ‘im, then, they wouldʼve sent a message that he was right. Dad would have become a hero and then theyʼd have to do more damage control.” 

“I canʼt believe you can speak of these things so clinically…” 

“Ha!” Gladio laughed briefly. It was getting easier for him to smile now. “You know…Dad was never afraid of death, but he was afraid of not having the final say.” Another quiet laughter followed. “Even after he got discharged, Dad never stopped. He dug deeper, even made some friends who could help him. Shinra made a lot of threats…until one day, they decided to push the bar higher and attempted to kidnap my sister.” His sister! How old had she been then? 

Ignisʼ jaw fell open as he stared at him through eyes that matched his shock. “Iris?” As if he had a different sister. 

“Think it was only supposed to scare us,” Gladio snorted. “Happened in broad daylight in the middle of traffic, but it went wrong and Mom died for it. Then before things got out of hand, they murdered my father and passed it off as a suicide. Even before Dad was killed, they had already written out our death certificates to cover up their fuck-up.” 

“Where were you and Iris when that happened?” 

“We were in school,” Gladio revealed. “When I found out, I brought Iris to the Leaf House in Sector 5 and we waited it out there. Mom was a bona fide philanthropist. She made regular donations to that place so we had friends there. They hid us…then Shinra announced that we died in a car accident.” He chuckled again, suddenly. “You know, the best thing would have been to just stay low and live a quiet life. Leaf House is great, yʼknow? It wouldnʼt have been a bad idea to work there and help the neighbors out. I was angry, though,” he sighed, eyes falling to his hands. “I wanted to avenge Dad. When I found a CCTV footage of Morieʼs car near our house, I spread it out like wildfire.”

“I remember reading about that,” Ignis shared. That had been the night of his kidnapping. “So…that was you.” 

Gladio nodded. “That was how I started. But I didnʼt cover up my tracks good enough so Shinra started scouting for us. I heard about Fort Condor, then, and escaped with my sister. Thatʼs where I got this.” Without even being prompted, he shrugged off the rest of his robe, revealing the entirety of his tattoo which covered the span of his back, his shoulders and his arms. 

Ignis knew it was a huge tattoo but he never realized, until then, that it made a singular image—of a bird of prey swooping down for the kill. It was…awesome, to say the least. His jaw had fallen slack at the impressive work, hand drawn to the birdʼs head, ruined by the scar, as if to feel the ink. Gladioʼs shoulder jumped at the touch so he pulled back instantly. 

“Tickles,” Gladio laughed. 

“Itʼs a condor, isnʼt it?” Ignis asked, looking closely, still. 

“Kinda like a mix of both condor and Phoenix,” Gladio explained with a vague gesture towards its face. “Itʼs sort of like…my oath to rise again. For my family.” 

“How long were you there for?” Like many folks in Midgar, Ignis was mostly ignorant about these obscure places outside of the great city. But he read it in little corners of the tabloids sometimes, or the broadsheet if Shinra had gained a crushing victory against them. 

“Give or take a year or two?” Gladio shrugged. “It wasnʼt bad. The people were great though we never had enough money for…just lots of things. I joined the fight to protect the condor on top of the reactor—” 

“So there really _is_ a live condor on there…” 

“Yeah,” Gladio laughed. “Donʼt believe everything Shinra says.” 

“I never do,” Ignis snapped to his defense, frowning at Gladioʼs implication. But his boyfriend apologized to him by shifting closer and pulling him to his exposed shoulder. He felt so warm like this…and his left leg, Ignis realized, had become completely exposed by his disheveled robe, the shape of his dick quite obvious on the thin fabric that was draped over his right thigh. Was it bad that he stirred? He never lied about wanting it. 

“I thought I would do it forever, yʼknow?” Gladio continued. “But then my dadʼs murderers caught wind that we were there. The Fort helped us escape but we werenʼt fast enough. I had to stay back to fight them off so Iris could get away to Cosmo Canyon. And thatʼs how we got separated.” He glanced down to his chest scar. 

“And thatʼs how I got this,” Gladio revealed. “When Morie tried to kill me the same way he killed my dad. If it werenʼt for the Fort, I might have really bled out but they found me just at the nick of time. I stayed with them to recuperate. That was when I realized that we couldnʼt keep running away forever, and that my sister was in as much danger as I am unless I did something about it. So I came back.” He turned to Ignis. “And then I met you.” 

Ignis smiled at him, then pulled himself closer to cuddle. Gladio tightened his own arm around him, as well. “And somehow, we got caught up in the same web.” 

Something Gladio tried to comfort him from with a kiss on his hair. “Iʼll get you out of it soon, I promise,” he whispered to him. “Iʼm one step closer to the end of the line.” 

“What else do you have to do?” 

“Find the master who owned the dog.” They looked at each other again. “And cut his hands off. I know I could be opening a can of worms but itʼs too late for me to stop. By now, he probably knows heʼs on his own so itʼs just a matter of time until I get to draw him out.” 

“Do you know where he is?” 

Gladio nodded. “Same place as you. Shinra Building.” He slipped his arm off when Ignis straightened up, looking him in the eye. “Look, I couldnʼt tell you before, okay? Thatʼs why I told you to be careful.” 

“So heʼs still there?” Ignis ignored his reasoning. “Which department?” 

“Ignis,” Gladio stared at him under wrinkled brows, “you…you trying to involve yourself?” 

“What part of _I love you_ tells you otherwise?” Ignis frowned. “Iʼm your closest bet, I go back there tomorrow and on Friday.” 

“Yeah, and you think that just ‘cause I said I loved you, too, means Iʼm gonna let you do everything you want?” Gladio matched his look. “Fuck that. Like hell Iʼll put you in more danger than you already are.” 

“What difference does it make?” Ignis argued back. “Iʼm already in danger, anyway!” 

“Yeah, and I donʼt like it!” Gladio protested. “It ainʼt like Iʼm enjoying this.” 

“And I suppose you think I enjoyed listening to your tale of loss and revenge?” Ignis glared at him. “I want it to end as much as you do, I donʼt want either of us to have to keep lying or poking at shadows wherever we go! I want us to be together.” He grabbed Gladioʼs hand and pressed it on his naked thigh for him to see. “Like this. Happy, safe, making love wherever and whenever we want. But unless we put an end to your demons, we wonʼt be able to enjoy ourselves.” 

Ignis knew he made his point clear when Gladio glared at their joined hands with an ugly frown that made him look like a child trying to be an adult. “Why dʼya have to be so smart?” he muttered. 

“Because I like getting what I want,” he chuckled, squeezing his boyfriendʼs hand. Gladio turned his hand over to squeeze him back. “So, who is it?” 

“You probably donʼt even know who he is,” Gladio chuckled, smiling shyly as if the idea of it comforted him. “He belongs to the Advanced Weaponry Division.” That made Ignisʼ heart jump. “Last nameʼs Ferro.” He should have known. 

Ignis felt the air thin out in his lungs. “Senior Manager Ferro?” he gasped, eyes wide. 

Gladioʼs expression changed, then. He shifted where he sat, looking at his stunned boyfriend closer. “Y, you know who he is?” 

“Yes,” Ignis confessed, nodding. “Unfortunately…I made his acquaintance during idle chatter…and became more and more suspicious of him because of his attraction to…to P, Prompto.” 

“Prompto?!” 

“The colleague I sent away,” Ignis went on to explain. “That was Prompto.” Gladioʼs shoulders fell back in his shock. “I…I suspect that in his disappointment of having lost access to him…he might have sent those men to kill me as his revenge. Without knowing of our relationship.” 

“Fuck,” Gladio hissed. 

“That would explain…” Ignis nodded to his own thoughts. “Why he seemed surprised to see me the day I returned after I was kidnapped. Everything makes sense now. If he and Morie had been working together in his businesses, it would stand to reason that their connection goes deeper than that.” 

“And you still wanna get involved?” Gladio snarled. “Youʼve seen how dangerous he still is!” 

“Has it not occurred to you that Iʼm a wronged man who seeks recompense for himself, as well?” Ignis bit back. “He kidnapped me for slaughter, he made those unwanted advances on my friend and he has ruined my boyfriendʼs life! What part of that makes you think I will meekly step back like a damsel hiding in his tower?” 

Gladio raked his hair back, cursing between his gritted teeth. 

So Ignis captured his attention with both his hands on his cheeks to keep those amber eyes on him. “I want to take care of you, too. Let me take care of you.” 

Gladio frowned bitterly at him. “I hate seeing you hurt and weak.” 

“No less than I hate seeing you brooding in your own pain,” Ignis replied. “Without a friend or a loved one to soothe you. Please. Give me a chance to be good to you.” Gladio didnʼt want to. He could tell by the stubborn shape of his eyes and his lips. 

What Ignis couldnʼt argue with his words, then, he left for his lips to speak. Gladio seemed to move on his own when he met him in a kiss, arms returning around him where they belonged. Ignis let himself be pulled back to his lap where he shucked his own robe. 

And finally did the same to Gladio, guiding it off his arms and raising himself a little so he could push back the silk from his cock, and with his heart beating in excitement, take it in his hands. It was long and heavy, still pliant as he let it lean on his belly so he could brush it upwards with both his hands. 

Ignis smiled closely to Gladio who hummed out in good feeling. “What were you thinking, hiding this from me?” His left hand ghosted down to his pair of fruits and fondled it gently. Gladio squirmed suddenly, hissing and then moaning in one beat. He laid another kiss on his full lips so he could guide him down to his back. 

“Stay still.” Ignis couldnʼt stymie his giggle when he got up to his feet. “Iʼll just go get my things.” 

Gladio sang out his name, groaning from the bed. “You couldn’t have done it sooner?” 

“ _When_ would I have done it?” Ignis tossed his packs of condom and his bottle of lube to the bed while he crawled over Gladio who had climbed higher up the bed to meet the pillows. They came together with another kiss, his knee slipping on Gladioʼs abandoned robe which caused him to pin the larger man under his body and smack their teeth together. Ignis pulled himself up suddenly in pain, hands flying to contain it. But between his knees, Gladio let out a healthy laughter. 

“You good?” Those warm hands caressed his hard thighs, from the top down to his knees. 

“You ask me that question after you laughed at my plight?” Ignis snorted, but forgiveness came quickly in the form of another kiss. 

Even before Gladio parted his lips to let his tongue slither through as his own apology. From his knees, he carried his own hands up to Ignisʼ ass to squeeze it, setting out a moan between their kiss and the man to grind himself on his belly. 

Ignis came up for air, then beamed before he reached for his bottle of lube and crawled down to Gladioʼs legs. “Spread yourself out for me, wonʼt you?” 

“Ignis—” Gladio started to get up. 

“Relax.” Ignis pushed him lightly by his chest. “Let me take care of you today.” He drew his eyes to the hard swells of Gladioʼs pectorals, dragging his hand down to his shapely abs and up again to his chest. “Let me show you I can be good for you, too.” Even with the angry scar, and the ruined tattoo, he still looked…incredibly glorious. His skin was marred but it did nothing to so much as scratch his perfection. He was strong, and gorgeous. 

And he was kind and warm and loving, too. Ignis would give anything to him if he could do it. 

He soaked his hands in lube. With only a gentle warning, he pierced his left middle finger through Gladioʼs entrance, wriggling steadily deeper despite those jumping knees and the tension along his boyfriendʼs hips. Already, he could feel his passage tightening around his digit, hot and exciting, arousing him with his own steady heat. 

Ignis had to pull himself out just to relieve a bit of the pressure, before he took Gladioʼs thick flesh in his right to stroke to the chorus of the man himself humming out in pleasure. He had to put his wrist between his head and his pillow so he could watch his boyfriend at work. 

It made Ignis smile, and brought his tongue to his pink glans to flick the tip of it along his sensitive slit. Gladio grunted a sharp curse, twitching his hips and his dick. Ignis wrapped his head softly with the circle of his lips and added another finger inside his walls. This one made him cry with an embarrassed start before he transformed his noise into a cat-like moan, adding another lovely stone of weight between his legs. 

Slowly, steadily, Ignis worked his mouth further along Gladioʼs length, lapping up the part flesh he could swallow while his soaked fingers massaged his girth and screwed him wider inside him. Between all this, there was hardly a moment where Gladio wasnʼt writhing and groaning and moaning his name. 

It gained a different power when spoken with his voice—made Ignis hotter, bolder as he started to suck his dick, raising his head high enough almost to depart before he sank it again slowly until he felt Gladioʼs head at the back of his throat. While his right hand pincered him between two fingers as he pulled, or played with his jewels as if they were a pair of dice in his palm… 

Gladio sighed out his name, swaying actively as he gripped at the sheets. He was getting harder, the taste of his pre-cum igniting Ignisʼ senses and want, encouraging him to blow him harder, fuck him deeper. Until he could finally reach that sweet bundle of nerves inside him, like pressing a button that made Gladio yell. 

Ignis had to laugh, pulling his mouth free so he could grin at Gladioʼs blushing face, his breathless smile and the sparkle in his eyes. “Good. Letʼs not be shy with each other. Could I bother you to tear a packet open for me? My fingers are slippery.” 

“These?” Gladio grasped one of the silver squares next to him. “Like this?” Biting one corner, he ripped the foil open. 

“Yes, exactly,” Ignis laughed, taking it from him to wear the latex on around him. “Good job. Now as a bonus, you get to choose which leg to give me.” He started to crawl to his smile again. 

“Oh, you really do love me, donʼt you?” Gladio beamed and snickered with him, meeting him in a deep kiss while he pulled up his left knee so Ignis could hook it over his shoulder. “Allow me.” With his long reach, he found Ignisʼ ready cock and gave it a little squeeze in greeting, shooting pleasure through Ignisʼ belly, before he guided its head to his ass. Ignis parted from him briefly to watch. 

With a steady push, he sunk right through Gladioʼs opening, into his liquid heat that drowned him and purged every reason from his head. Gladio himself let out a deep moan, as if one that came from a well. 

They kissed again, Ignis pinning his folded leg between them as he dug further inside him, carving a special passage for himself. Gladio was rigid and tight even on the inside, but so willing, so ready to take him in that Ignis was more than happy to seek deeper. 

He knew he had found him when Gladio fumbled his kiss to break off and moan with his gasp. He was in so deep that Ignis found it difficult at first to move, pull back a little to swing right in but he managed to find his place before long. After a couple of experimental thrusts, Gladio was staring and moaning deeply with a perfect O for his mouth. 

“There you are,” Ignis smiled at his boyfriend, his scarred features twisted by the pleasure of being taken. He dipped his head between Gladioʼs neck and shoulder and began to lap at the damp skin before he kissed it and scratched it lightly with his teeth. Gladio hissed at the subtle pain and his persistent motions, arms snaking around him so he could better meet his boyfriendʼs pelvis, like two waves crashing. 

It made Ignis laugh, distracting him briefly from tasting Gladioʼs shoulder and biceps with his mouth. His free right found Gladioʼs hand to entangle with while his left fingers scampered to his nipple to play with. 

The room became full of Gladioʼs drawn-out moans and sighs and Ignisʼ own swallowed noises as Gladioʼs tightness pulled and sucked at his swollen erection. There was nothing manic about this, Ignis preferring a steady, stubborn rhythm that brushed his prostate without fail. Gladio would hiss out his name between his song or speak it in a voice that begged. 

And they would always find each other in a kiss, though their lips and tongue would keep missing before long and then even Ignis would be unable to do much else than to press his forehead on Gladioʼs shoulder muscle so he could focus on penetrating his boyfriend. Before long, he was wailing out his own need as he started moving faster, sharper. 

Until he burst inside Gladio, moaning in bliss while he continued to thrust himself inside him until Gladio had finally ejaculated, though it was a lot less dramatic than expected. 

He should have known that Gladio had done it on purpose. Ignis was only half-done with his own release when Gladio threw him suddenly to his side. Ignis landed on his back with his legs kicking out. 

Gladio rolled on top of him sooner than he could raise himself, flashing him a devilish smile that set Ignisʼ heart dancing wildly, now that he was trapped between his arms. His heavy dick, still hard and wet, landed upon Ignisʼ and almost made the man arch his hips up to meet him. “Now itʼs my turn,” he crooned to him, then dove for his mouth.

—

They must have spent the whole day and night naked and tangled in each otherʼs arms. Gladio finally got what he wanted by fucking Ignis on his knees and in his precious underwear until the fabric had outlived its purpose, never to be remembered again where it was discarded on the floor.

They lived a cycle of bliss within that imagined space: sleep, then sex, dinner, then sex again. Before the night ended, they figured out how to get the jacuzzi going where Ignis made out with his boyfriend before he pushed him to his back and fucked him with his fingers until he came. Gladioʼs revenge was to pin him with his chest on the rim to fondle his balls. 

He was a cruel mate, and it was what made him so addictive to Ignis on top of his sexy body and the size of his shaft. He liked to deny the pleasures he was seeking, or otherwise give it to him tenfold. 

He was deep inside him now; Gladio was fucking him from the back while he spooned him, his hand working his leaking cock. With Ignisʼ arms pinned to his chest by Gladioʼs own, there was nothing he could do but to cry and be fucked and keep his leg hooked behind Gladioʼs knee so he could keep himself wide open. 

When Gladio stopped so suddenly, Ignis complained with a chesty growl, trying to shake free from his boyfriendʼs embrace to no success. And for his frustration, Gladio only laughed and kissed him on his neck. “ _Gladio_ ,” he snarled, unable to move his pelvis to finish the job himself where it was pinned between stomach and fist. “Gladio, your hand!! Please…” 

“Please?” Ignis could practically hear the smile in his voice. Gladio liked watching and listening to him beg. “Please what?” 

“Please…!” 

“Iʼm no psychic, Ignis. Youʼre gonna have to be clearer than that,” Gladio chuckled. “Please let me go?” He loosened his fist. 

“ _Come!!_ ” Ignis would have embarrassed himself with that desperate roar if he had half his mind still with him. He wriggled in Gladioʼs arm, trying to do whatever just to get that heady pressure back around his cock. “ _Please_ , Gladio, let me come!” 

“Ohhh,” he sang in understanding. “Shouldʼve told me sooner.” But when he finally moved his fist, it was too soft and gentle for what Ignis needed, and he wasnʼt even pummeling him from the back anymore. Ignis was so close to weeping in frustration. 

It made Gladio laugh. “Do you like my dick?” 

Ignis shook his head, damp and heavy on the bed sheet. “I love it,” he whispered. Heʼd been asked this question so many times in so many ways throughout the course of their day together that he knew what to answer. 

“Do you like it more if I suck your nipples or your dick?” These embarrassing questions were just part of Gladioʼs brand of cruelty. 

“My dick,” Ignis mumbled. 

“Oh?” Gladio raised himself slightly so they could face each other over his shoulder. “But your nipples are so cute and pink.” 

“You can play with them if you want, you donʼt need my permission.” 

That stroke of arrogance made Gladio laugh and bury a kiss on his mouth. “Do you like it more if I suck your dick or smack your ass?” Heʼd only done the latter sparingly over the course of the day, too wary it seemed by the power he carried in his hand. 

“Both,” Ignis admitted. “But I canʼt express how much it turns me on when you hit me on the back.” 

Gladio laughed again and nodded. “Okay.” He would remember that. “Do you like it when I deny you release?” He didnʼt—Ignis really didnʼt. He was spoiled, he wanted to come when he was full and ready. 

But even when he shook his head wildly, he knew he had no say in this. Gladioʼs arm still had him trapped, so he was helpless when those wicked fingers traveled up to his head and pinched it—tenderly but being oversensitive, it was enough to make Ignis wail. “Sorry. Didnʼt quite hear that.” There was only one answer. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Ignis cried, even nodding. “I love it. I love it when you edge me!” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you like to beg.” Gladio kissed him on his cheek as a reward for giving him the proper answer. His hand tightened around Ignisʼ dick when he resumed his pelvic thrusts. It didnʼt take much longer for Ignis to come in grateful ribbons and a song of relief. 

This kind of sex always left him feeling a bit lightheaded. He could only nod when Gladio pulled out of him and excused himself to the bathroom where he would dispose his condom. 

When he returned, Ignis dragged him to their pillows so he could cuddle with him, slithering until he was facing his round nipple so he could give it a few experimental kisses. Gladio had mentioned playing with it so he wondered if it was a part of his turn-ons. Whatever it was, it made him laugh a little and brush his hair. 

“Can you take tomorrow off, too?” _Can_ he? 

Ignis sighed, stopping so he could lay his cheek on his chest scar. “Itʼs tempting,” he admitted. “But Iʼm uncertain. I donʼt ever want to leave your side, though.” 

“I wish you would just leave that place,” Gladio sighed. “Itʼs not safe anymore. Why would you stay?” 

“Because I need a job,” Ignis chuckled. 

“I got a place up here,” Gladio told him, casually, earning a wide look from Ignis. “And I still got money. Why donʼt you just move in with me?” 

The thought of which made Ignis laugh and carry himself to face his frowning boyfriend. He laid a kiss on his pouting lips. “I thought you were supposed to be hiding?” 

“Iʼll finish this soon.” 

“Soon isnʼt now, Gladio,” was Ignisʼ kind reminder, running his finger lightly on his secret scar. Unbelievable—all this time, he had known the mastermind of it but had done nothing to make him pay… 

He snapped up suddenly to Gladio, and mumbled, “Though I suppose it could be…”

—

They went back to their normal lives the next morning, and sufficed themselves with calls and messages and the brief moments they could spend with each other after Gladioʼs work.

But days later, they would be back in each otherʼs arms, in their own selfish desires. Gladio, still dressed in his uniform as a Honeyboy, led Ignis to the back of the nightclub and pressed him to the wall. It was barely lit, though there was just enough to see by. Perfect for beggars who just wanted every scrap of time they could afford with each other, even during breaks. 

“What if someone catches us?” Ignis whispered but with the state of his nerves, it was hard to keep his voice to himself. Gladio silenced him with a kiss and nudged him back to the wall as he ground himself to him. When Ignis needed to breathe, he tore his mouth free from Gladioʼs greedy kiss. That meant, though, that every moan he made rang clearly in the empty space.

—

And then it stopped, these little meetings. There was work to catch up with so Ignis had to stay on late in the office. He would have his dinner in the empty cafeteria, alone except for his phone.

Or until someone decided to join him, a man in a sharp suit with the Shinra pin on his lapel. Ignis recognized his presence faster than he saw his smiling face, and he could hardly keep his stare to himself when he stammered, “S, Senior Manager…” The same man who had caused so much pain to his loved ones. Who had wanted him dead. 

“It seems like itʼs been quite some time since I saw you here so late, Mr. Scientia,” Ferro chuckled, weaving his fingers together on his tabletop. “Work, is it?” 

“Yes,” Ignis laughed a little nervously, adjusting his glasses. “Indeed, there is…simply too much to catch up on. I probably shouldnʼt have taken too many days off.” 

Ferro chuckled deeply. “Oh Mr. Scientia, you shouldnʼt blame yourself for enjoying your youth! You must be what…in your 20s?” 

Ignis nodded politely with a smile. “I am 22-years old.” 

Ferro smiled back in a look of understanding. “Twenty-two…so much promise. And yet…” he sighed, getting up from his seat. 

Ignis remained frozen in his place when the Shinra executive marched to him. Gladio had said this was a dangerous man he shouldnʼt play with so carelessly. It was definitely information he would have appreciated much earlier. 

But now Ferro was on his back, and his hand had slithered down between Ignisʼ legs to grab his cock. The assault caused him to cry out suddenly before he trapped his protestations with a hand on his sealed mouth. 

Ferro silenced him with a hissing sound on his ear, which he kissed later. Ignis shuddered, but being out in public and with the merciless hand stroking him, it was hard enough for him to sit still or to remain soundless. “Why? I thought you liked this?” 

“S, Sir,” Ignis managed with a shaky breath, “please—please…I have a boyfriend. Please stop. Iʼm asking you to stop.” 

“Hm, but donʼt you feel lonely?” Ferro was relentless. “Your boyfriend seems quite busy in the _Honeybee Inn_ to keep you company.” He knew now that Gladio worked as a dancer in the nightclub. 

Ignis stared at the leering man beside him. “How did you find out?” 

Ferroʼs triumph looked like a catʼs smile. “Why, you told me.” From his pocket, he brought out his phone, and played a dark video of two men making out at the back of the popular establishment. Even from such poor quality, Ignisʼ moans and pleas rang clearly, and the sharp tails of Gladioʼs vest caught the light perfectly. 

“Who would have thought?” Ferro chuckled wickedly when he replayed the video so Ignis could watch it again. “That the straight and unfathomable Ignis Scientia could be such a slut? Though now that I see you from this angle…yes, I suppose you do have some lovely feminine qualities about you. Almost makes me wish I could devirginize you myself!” 

“No, please!” Ignis whipped at him and shook his head with wild eyes. “P, please, Sir, donʼt do that. I, I have a boyfriend,” he repeated himself like a stupid marionette. 

It gave Ferro a different idea. “Well, then. Why donʼt we make him watch? I bet he hasnʼt seen you scream like a bitch.” He tightened his grasp around Ignisʼ groin, enough to be just painful. Ignis swallowed his cry deep inside his mouth. “Well, not in the way I can. What say we catch a show on Friday, hm?” With a hand on his shoulder, he forced Ignis closer to him. “And you better be there if you donʼt want to fuck his corpse!” 

For whatever it was worth, his hand had at least departed from his legs, though the threat had already been placed on their heads. As silently as he arrived, Ferro left him alone, leaving nothing of his presence but the trauma of his touch and his words.

—

“Gladio, Iʼm scared,” Ignis said to his phone. Friday had come sooner than he expected and he was counting down the hours left until the show. But instead of humming out a track or hiding a smile between his lips, today, he was hiding in a corner near the menʼs bathroom near the recreation area. “I know youʼre busy but I just had to leave you a voicemail because Iʼm so scared. Please call me as soon as you receive this. I love you.” With a clumsy thumb, he ended the call.

But where he began the message alone, he turned now to see Ferro straightening up his necktie from the bathroom door, watching him with a self-satisfied smile. Ignis squared his shoulders suddenly and gave him a respectful now. 

Ferro responded with a wink and a finger on his lips, cursing him into silence.

—

The _Honeybee Inn_ looked about as frenzied and exciting as when Ignis first stepped through its perfumed gates, but where he was always filled with excitement and anticipation before, there wasnʼt much of either that could be said of his state that night. He could hardly look at some of the Honeybees that had since become his friends as Ferro presented their VIP tickets to the concierge, keeping an arm secure around Ignisʼ waist. As if he hadnʼt brought some men to tail them from the upper plate down to Wall Market and Ignis might easily run away.

“Isnʼt this exciting?” Ferro chuckled to him as they settled down, dead center at the front of the stage. Their drinks had arrived but Ignis made no move to pick it up. 

Or to shift away from his unwanted companion who patted him fondly on his thigh. “Should we go to my favorite 5-star hotel after the show? Iʼm quite welcome there so they wonʼt be batting their lashes no matter what I do with you. I hope youʼre into leather and edge play. I could teach you the finer side of pain and pleasure.” Disgusting. 

Ignis felt his stomach curdle at the thought and shook his head. He hated people who brandished their fetishes proudly in public and quite simply, they werenʼt his. “Please, Sir, I really donʼt want this.” 

Ferro laughed at him viciously for his rejection. “And where does a slut get off thinking he has a say in this?” Before he could make another attack, he was saved by the lights turning down around them, finally. He should have been enjoying himself with embarrassing giddiness, Ignis thought. 

Or sighing and swooning in bliss when Gladio came out at the very first minute, to the howls and cheers of the room. Of all the shows to be front and center with a man he abhorred, it was one where Gladio had a bigger role to play in the opening number. It was strange, being both excited and frightened by the sight of him dancing on stage, doing what made Ignis fall in love with him. 

“Is that him?” Ferro asked. Ignis had no choice but to nod. He didnʼt look at him no matter how closely he was sticking his nose to his cheek. “Let’s give him a kiss, shall we?” To Ignisʼ revulsion, he pressed his dry lips to his cheek. 

It was a fantastic show, as it always was. Made better by Gladioʼs handsome presence while he moved between scenes and Honeygirls in smooth professionalism, as if he was blind to Ignisʼ plight. Trapped in Ferroʼs presence, he hardly breathed or moved. 

Even to check the time on his phone, he did it like a frightened school child who might be punished for his insolence. But at 9 oʼ clock, he decided he needed to go. This was too much, heʼd had more than enough. 

With a brave face, he got up and tried to escape. 

Ferroʼs hand lashed at his wrist with a vice-like grip and yanked him back down his side, forcing a grunt of pain out through his teeth. “And where do you think youʼre going, you bitch?!” he snarled under his breath. 

“Please,” Ignis tried to pull against his captivity to no avail, “please, no more! I beg of you. I just want to go home.” 

“Home?” An ugly smile drew up to his face. “Should I just tell my men to dispose of him, then?” Ferro nodded towards the stage. He meant Gladio, of course. 

Ignisʼ eyes went wide. He shook his head with hysteria. “No! No, please donʼt do that! I, Iʼll do anything just…please.” He frowned with bitterness. “Let’s not involve him. Letʼs get out of here. Letʼs go to your hotel.” 

They were like magic words that melted the villainous shade from Ferroʼs delighted expression. “See? Meek obedience has its rewards. Maybe I could make a fine pet of you yet.” He traced the shape of Ignisʼ chin with a calloused finger. “Before this night is over, youʼll have learned how to call me your master. Understood?” 

Ignis nodded, but meek or not, he couldnʼt keep his frightened eyes from drawing up to the stage where a Honeygirl was spinning her way to Gladioʼs arms. 

For the first time since this whole farce started, those fiery amber eyes glowered with the promise of revenge.

—

They left before the show came to an end.

Ignis walked with dread on his heels while Ferro led him to the private carriage he had hired for the night, humming one of the songs that was played in the nightclub. He kept his ears trained behind them… 

At the silence, Ignis finally broke free and grabbed one of his daggers hidden under his blazer to kill Ferro. 

Too obvious, a hand caught his wrist and caused him to drop the blade in shock. Ferro shoved him back and with a cruel force hit him along his cheek with a backhanded slap. Ignis crumpled to the ground. 

He went with him when he dragged him to one of the many quiet alleys of the market by his collar and pinned him to the wall. Ignis cried out at the violence, averting his face from the hot breath rolling through Ferroʼs bared teeth. 

“Worm!” Ferro snarled. “Do you really think someone as weak as you could kill me?” 

“Let me go!” Ignis shouted as loudly as he could, trying to pull free from his trap. “Please, Iʼm begging you, let me go!” 

“You know, I really donʼt care if I rape you and kill you right where I stand. My patience has run out—” A sharp blade threatened to cut him along the side of his neck. 

“Then I guess there ainʼt a problem if you let him go, huh?” That familiar voice rumbled with the reappearance of Ignisʼ fallen blade. Finally. 

Ignis stopped struggling and breathed out. There was something satisfying about watching the way Ferro turned slowly to the clean steel over his shoulder, eyes as wide as saucers. 

Gladio smirked at him. “Whoʼs the worm now? Let ‘im go nice and easy and I might not slice you up like the spineless thing that you are. Yet.” 

Ferro fumed at that. “How dare you—” 

“That wasnʼt a request,” Ignis snapped at him, bringing his other blade right against his liver. Ferro whipped back to him with a round stare. “Just in case I needed to make that clear, _Master_.” And just to lighten things up, he added a smile.

—

They found a more obscure hiding place in the network of streets of Wall Market where Ignis proceeded to tie Ferro up with a rope around his wrist that led down to one of his thighs. Props courtesy of Gladioʼs magical hoodie.

In the meantime, the man in that same hoodie entertained himself with the video of them making out at the back of the _Honeybee Inn_. “Sheesh, this is bad. You canʼt even make much outta this thing.” 

“Which is why I made sure you were wearing your Honeyboy uniform during the filming. Come now, donʼt be too cruel,” Ignis chuckled, straightening up after heʼd secured their villain in several knots. He dusted his hands along his trousers, matching Ferroʼs dark look with a cold gaze. “Our friend did his best to make that as seedy as possible. On top of all the work I am asking of him.” 

“Ha!” For all that he hated the man, Ignis had to admire Ferroʼs gall to feel impenetrable. “You would really have me believe that you planned this all from the start? Youʼre nothing but a whore!” 

“Hey!” Gladio pointed Ignisʼ dagger to their prisoner. “One more ugly word about him and I might just be your new dentist!”

“Indeed, I would be careful what you say, Ferro,” Ignis sighed, crossing his arms. “Between someone who seriously believed that an associate sent him this video and someone who pretended to be his perfect victim to draw him out of his lair, whoʼs the fool, really?” Someoneʼs phone was ringing. He would have wanted to bask on Ferroʼs boiling indignation but he preferred to act disaffected by his brilliance by glancing back to his boyfriend who was digging inside his hoodieʼs deep pocket. “Is that them?” 

“Canʼt be anyone else.” Gladio handed him an ear piece. 

Ignis plugged it on, just in time to catch their common friend singing, “ _So, did you guys get ‘im?_ ” 

“Yes, Sniper,” Ignis answered, looking at the confused Ferro in easy triumph. “Weʼre right on time.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Perhaps a call sign would be best suited for this situation,” Ignis suggested. 

“You mean like,” Noct shrugged, a half-eaten fruit tart of Ignisʼ creation in his hand, “Radio 1, Radio 2?” 

“Nahhh, it has to be something cooler.” Prompto let out a long humming note of thought, crossing his arms over his chest. “We could look at some of the comics Noct has.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause the only codenames I can think of are Chocoboy and Mog Lady,” Gladio shared. 

“Prompto wants to be Chocoboy!!” That joke came out of the blue but Noct laughed wholeheartedly at it anyway. 

“I donʼt!!” was Promptoʼs defensive screech. Though if he really did, no one in the basement game room of Noctʼs mansion would have been surprised. After all, when Ignis gathered the four of them in one chat, Prompto had renamed it from _Group Chat_ (Ignis was not always proud of his level of creativity) to _let's go to the chocobo farm!!!!!!!!_ “I mean…it has to be something that clicks!” 

“Do we have all day for that? I mean,” Gladio shrugged, “I know Ignis and I are stayinʼ over but Iʼd like to get more done and maybe get some sleep, too.” 

This meeting happened during Gladioʼs Sunday rest day, four days since he shared his past with Ignis, five days prior to the entrapment operation. Before that, Ignis had run Gladio briefly through the outline of his ideas, convinced him that this was the best, most efficient way of closing this chapter of his life, and then enlisted Prompto and Noctʼs help who would be keys to the success of their mission. It was only supposed to be a dinner meeting but Prompto had invited them to spend the day since Regis was out on a trip, anyway. Also, by doing that, it meant Ignis could cook for the group, a win-win situation for the other three involved. 

“Oh, I know!! We could pick our codenames!” Prompto sat up electrified before he got up to his feet from the floor. “Be right back!” And tripped out of their circle. 

“Iʼm relieved to see that Prompto is as cheerful as ever,” Ignis noted, taking the second to the last tart on the plate. He held it up to the light and gave it a sniff. “I never got to ask how you managed to convince him to move in here.” 

Noct shrugged. “It wasnʼt that hard. He told me you stopped him from going to the office and why you did that then I told him he could stay. Least I got guards left and right.” 

Ignis nodded. “I truly appreciate all your help, Noct.” 

“Me, too,” Gladio echoed, pulling the plate of tarts closer to him and Noct to his right. “I wanted to do this alone but this guy told me you guys could help.” He nodded towards Ignis next to him who took his first bite. He looked at the last surviving tart and pointed to it. “You gonna eat that?” 

Noct glanced at it and then eyed Gladio defensively. “I thought you appreciated all my help?” 

“Thereʼs more in the kitchen,” Ignis reminded them. 

“Ta-da!!” Prompto sung his entrance, collapsing back to crossed legs between Ignis and Noct. In his hand was a chunky black box of cards. 

“ _Insomnia_ ,” Gladio read the logo, tilting his head in the process. 

“Oh, that one,” Noct noted. 

“Itʼs a card RPG about a city called _Insomnia_ and thereʼs good and evil in it,” Prompto shared, flipping the box open to slide out some colored cards at the front. “So thereʼs like, a king, the people who protect him and then the people who want him dead and then their leader. And you pick a card and you guess whoʼs who!” 

“Is it difficult to play?” Ignis took the box when Prompto set it down beside him, still heavy with the other cards the gamemaster rejected. 

“We donʼt have to play it _now_ , we could just pick our codenames first!” Fanned out, the colored cards made a total of 14 pieces. He laid them out on the floor. “If there are repeats, I guess we can just pick again.” 

“Oooh, nice one, Prompto.” Noct rubbed his hands together. “Iʼll get started.” He picked a card in the middle. 

Ignis followed after him, taking one from the edge while Gladio chose whatever his spinning finger landed on. 

Prompto was the last to pull towards the other end of the row. “ _Ooooh,_ I got Sniper!! You?!” He whipped towards Ignis. 

Ignis showed him the design. “It says here Hand of the King.” 

“I got the Shield,” Gladio cackled, putting his card down, face up. “Shield of the King, that sounds important.” 

“Noct?” Prompto turned to him. 

Noct had a sour look on his face when he slapped his card to the floor. “I got the king. I donʼt like it, though, thatʼs just for old men!” Gladio cracked up at his vanity. “Iʼll just be like,” he rolled his shoulders back, put his chin up, “the prince.” 

“So,” Prompto sang, pointing to each of them in turn, “Prince, Shield, Hand, Sniper!” 

Ignis nodded. “Theyʼre not bad names.” Impersonal, but they clicked. 

“Okay, so,” buoyed by the role that he picked, Noct took the last tart from the plate, “whatʼs this all about, Ignis?” 

“Thereʼs someone who has unfortunately been terrorizing my and Gladioʼs lives for…some years now, I suppose.” Ignis handed his half-finished tart to his boyfriend, flicking the crumbs from his fingers to the plate. “And we have a plan to stop him but before that, we need a team who can take care of some background work. Particularly, what I have in mind is someone who will take care of the baiting video, and someone who has access to our markʼs skeletons in the closet.” 

“Sounds like a big fish,” Noct noted. “Iʼm guessing the video guyʼs Prompto and the files guy is me?” Ignis nodded. “Okay.” He shrugged. “So whoʼs this guy?” How should Ignis break this… 

He decided to do it as simply as he could manage. “Itʼs the man called Ferro.” 

“The senior manager?” Prompto sputtered. 

“The very,” Ignis confirmed. “He must be stopped and we cannot trust the legal system to deliver justice for us. I havenʼt told either of you before but he recently made an attempt on my life,” Noct and Promptoʼs eyes grew wide at his news, “and has caused Gladio…a striking loss.” 

“And you _still_ want us to go after him?” Noct scratched his head. “I mean, I donʼt mind. If heʼs attacking my friends then Iʼm pissed off. Besides, I canʼt turn a blind eye on this.” 

“Me, too, me, too!” Prompto insisted almost ferociously. “Seriously, he tried to hurt you?!” 

Ignis nodded to the bewildered man. “I had no cause to worry you about the news but now I have reason to share it.” 

Noct gestured to Gladio. “And whatʼs he done to you?” 

“Murdered my dad,” Gladio folded his thick arms, “or at least heʼs the guy behind the murderer. He got my mom killed, too, but itʼs all covered up under suicide and a car accident respective—” 

“Whoah, whoah, wait a sec!” Noct stopped him with a hand. “What the hell was your last name again?” 

Gladio had to glance at Ignis for one final reassurance before he revealed himself to them: “Amicitia.” 

Noct gaped. “Like Uncle Clarus Amicitia Amicitia?” Ignis suddenly remembered the Ferro Assets _C.A._ Now he realized that even that should have been obvious to him on the get-go. 

“Hey,” Gladio pointed at him, “howʼd you know my dad?” 

“He and Dad were tight,” Noct explained. “Weʼve got like a lot of dirt on Ferro and SOLDIER thanks to him! After they said you all died in a car accident, Dad got me all these bodyguards just in case Shinra went for us next. Itʼs why I got the Warp materia,” he waved his naked left, “so I could warp-out if my life was ever in danger.” 

“Your dadʼs the lawyer?” 

“Hey, Noct,” Prompto nudged his friend, “how come you never helped him before?” 

“I didnʼt know he was still alive!” Noct spat to his defense. “I didnʼt even know what he looks like.”

“Most people donʼt,” Gladio tossed in. That was how heʼd been able to stay under the radar for so long. 

“Besides, I got him a weapon in the underground arena,” Noct went on. That made Gladio snort painfully at the reminder. 

“I imagine Gladio is partly to blame for that,” Ignis stepped in. “While he should have asked for help, for the past few weeks, heʼs been quite busy putting certain businesses in jeopardy as a means of retribution. Particularly a certain auction house and a certain brothel.” 

“Really?” Prompto looked at Gladio. “You’re the vigilante?” 

“Pleased ta meet ya.” Gladio grinned. “Didnʼt do it for social justice or whatever, though. I just wanted to hit them where it hurt and get Claymore back from the auction house.” 

“Whoʼs Claymore?” 

“My dadʼs sword,” Gladio answered. “After they killed him, they stole his sword but since itʼs been years, I guess they were just planning to auction it off to some rich collector. Had to spend all my prize money from the Colosseum just to find that out.” 

“So what do you plan to do with him now?” Noct shrugged. “Kill him?” 

“Thought about it.” Gladio wore a pensive frown on his face when he admitted it. “But if thereʼs one thing I learned, itʼs that killing doesnʼt always end things. Sometimes, it just leads to more killing and I just want it all to end.” 

“For that, weʼll require your assistance to lure him to a false sense of security,” Ignis took his cue from there, crossing his arms. “Ferro has been a part of the senior leadership team for as long as anyone I know can remember. Given his tenure, he should have been offered the position of vice director at this point but perhaps due to his involvement with certain high profile incidents, Shinra is quite cautious about drawing more attention to him. At the same time, I imagine he has enough leverage to cause quite a scandal if they should ever fire or float him. So, the result is that he is in a very comfortable place that he is not willing to abandon any time soon.” 

“Sounds like you wanna offer him a better deal,” Noct said. 

“I wish it did,” Gladio snorted to himself. 

“For which we have no money,” Ignis chuckled, ignoring his boyfriend though he wouldnʼt deny him his reservations. This was a risky job, after all, for all that he made it sound easy. “Besides, greed only begets greed. No, the plan I have in mind is far simpler and, I suppose, dirtier than that. The first step is to dangle the bait, and that will be yours truly.” 

“Ignis!” Prompto protested. 

“I saw him a few days after that attempt on my life and he looked quite disappointed,” Ignis reasoned out. “Now, imagine yourself as a powerful person, very wealthy and protected, and this man who must seem like a fly to you has gotten in the way of your plans. And now he makes a mistake that gives you an opening to squash him for once and for all.” 

Noct gestured to him with the king card. “If Iʼm feeling confident, Iʼd go for it.” 

Ignis nodded. “Gladio and I will stage that mistake, and I will give him access to the blackmail material for which I will need Promptoʼs expertise to polish. The hope is that he will take the bait. And if he does, I must ensure that he believes that he has gained every advantage over me until we can execute our mission. I donʼt know if it will be as straightforward as I said, I only hope that years of unchallenged power has softened his scrutiny. But if he is the man I know him to be, he will want to satisfy his victory as soon as he is able.” 

“You’re givinʼ me the creeps listening to you talk like that.” Gladio visibly shuddered. 

“From there, the idea is to isolate him in a place where Gladio and I will confront him,” Ignis went on in the same even tone. “I do not yet know how long this will take exactly but I would like to set the trap as soon as possible.” 

“But after you isolate him,” Prompto was still frowning when he drew his attention, “what happens next?”

—

“Sniper?” Ferro bristled. “You think you can just kill me so easily? My men will find you before your sniper ever has the chance to pull that trigger!”

“That would depend if they still have enough life to actually take ours.” Ignis countered his threat as if it were a sloppy ball shot. “However, seeing as my friend is already here and they still arenʼt, I imagine that isnʼt the case.” 

“Hope you got them some life insurance,” Gladio added, rolling his shoulders backwards. “‘cause I made sure they wouldnʼt be getting up again. Unlike certain people.” 

“In any case,” Ignis went on after him, “the sniper wonʼt be necessary unless you misbehave.” That was actually an unplanned for effect but he didnʼt mind running away with it. “So if I were you, I would just cooperate. You have no men, no friends down here, and no phone.” Beside them, Gladio waved it. 

Ferro started to sneer when his situation was laid bare before him, but sooner laughed than admitted his defeat. “Fine! Iʼll humor you.” That winning smile was back but while it had an edge of his usual kind front, Ignis had learned enough to pick out the less desirable notes in it. “Letʼs pretend that I will cooperate.” 

“Thatʼs where it all starts,” Ignis assured him. “Clarus Amicitia—what is the real cause behind his death?” 

When Ferro guffawed, he let out what felt like the greatest one of his life yet. And with the way he twisted, bending as low as his rope allowed him, it was clear that that was the funniest joke heʼd ever heard. “All this…just for _that_?” 

“I must say, the bar for you has been set so low, I am almost tempted to commend you for not denying your involvement,” Ignis noted dryly. 

“Whatʼs the use?” The ire and insidiousness were gone from Ferroʼs voice. Now he was just amused. “Everyone linked to it is dead. Amicitia wonʼt rise from the dead to strike me down, and I heard that his supposed murderer was killed in a gang fight.” There was almost a sparkle in his eye when he directed that part to Ignis, who should have been killed on that same event. Thus confirming his suspicions again. “Iʼm sure youʼve heard all about that.”

Ignis pulled his brows tight for a studious look. “Yes, in fact I recall reading something like that from the newspaper.” Ferro howled in laughter again. “So, Clarus Amicitia _was_ murdered. Youʼve confessed it yourself.” 

“Oh please, Iʼm only echoing what I heard from the news.” Ferro smiled with triumph. Touche. 

Except Ignis didnʼt allow himself to be molested and disrespected just to lose. “But now, thereʼs a joke worth laughing at.” He got comfortable where he stood, folding his arms over his chest. “If you werenʼt invested with his murder, what need do you have to disconnect yourself from the crime? An upright citizen of this fair city must do his duty to uphold the peace. Doesnʼt the Shinra Creed say something about that?” 

“I see you are trying to extract a confession from me, eh?” Ferro laughed deeply. “You might actually be cleverer than I gave you credit for—if a bit old-fashioned. Are you recording this?” He nodded towards Gladio. “Is he here to beat me up if I donʼt read off the script?” 

“I could.” Gladio seemed to lighten up at the suggestion. 

“If thatʼs what you prefer,” Ignis agreed, eyes unmoving from their mark. “Although I am, indeed, recording this.” He brought out his phone as if to demonstrate. “Iʼve been recording you ever since we got in your car. You made it easy by always staying close to me so I was able to capture every instance you called me a slut, a whore, a bitch and threatened me with violence despite all the ways I clearly said no, I do not want this, please let me go.” 

“Why, youʼre a lot funnier than I realized,” Ferro chuckled on. “You think those petty blackmails still work against me?” 

“Well, seeing as how you so willingly brought yourself here because of some video I sent you, I thought I might give it a try.” When Ferroʼs look darkened again, Ignis smiled. “Clarus Amicitiaʼs murder, if you please.” 

“Who is he to you?” 

“None of your damn business,” the son spat, stepping closer to him. “Just answer the damn question!” 

“Oh, I see now where I recognize you,” Ferro sneered at him then turned to Ignis. “You were the one with him in the Colosseum fight.” 

“And now you know what we are capable of,” Ignis said, both as a warning and a confirmation. “Would you like to push your luck still?” 

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Ferro laughed, grinning first at one and then the other. “Hm? Do you want me to tell that silly phone that it was I who actually killed the captain?” 

“The truth would suffice,” Ignis answered. “Why did you order his murder and who else knows about this?” 

“You know, Iʼm curious as to how you keep insisting that itʼs me.” Ferro was leading them away from the topic again. Ignis couldnʼt stop himself from heaving out a sigh as he glanced at Gladio, his weariness barely concealed from his lips. “Please, I would like to find out your reasons.”

“Want me to drop a bomb?” Gladio offered. 

“As long as it isnʼt the literal kind, weʼre good,” Ignis accepted. 

“Oh please, do try.” Ferro put his back against the wall, relaxing. 

“Iʼll try my best, then,” Gladio replied. He cleared his throat, then shifted his arms across his chest. 

With a glare at the man who smiled mockingly at him, he began, “Suppose I was the one who smashed the doors of your brothel open.” Ferroʼs expression morphed dramatically into one of shock and hate. “Yeah. Youʼre lookinʼ at me like you wanna murder me but what the hell were you thinking, keeping all those people locked up in the basement? Low food and water to keep ‘em scrawny and weak like in the wartime propaganda? You should be disgusted with yourself.” Gladio shivered at the thought. “But I guess it figures that Wutai never meant anything to you more than extra profit, huh? Even when youʼre doing it behind the back of the hand that feeds ya.” 

“Who are you?” he growled. “Where did you come from?” 

“Just a dead guy trying to live a peaceful life,” Gladio answered, betraying no emotion. “But you all wonʼt let me.” When they were planning for this, Ignis had secretly worried that Gladioʼs need for justice and vengeance would put a risk to their operation. One well-placed strike, one snap of Ferroʼs neck and everything would be done. But now, he couldnʼt help but wonder and be in awe of how he could master himself, so close to the man who ruined his life out of greed. 

But then, Ignis remembered that it had been years since he was wronged. Even the wildest fire would die out in that time, leaving behind only the smoke marks and the black embers in its wake. 

Ferro was probably as old as his father would have been now but next to him, he looked like a child, glowering at his victim. “How mighty you must feel now, cheating death.” 

Gladio shook his head. “Mightyʼs for those to whom power means everything, but I donʼt want any of that.” 

“You think I would believe that?” Ferro giggled like a drunk. “Look around you, boy! You live in a place of squalor and injustice, there is no one here that does not want the power to rise up!” 

“Yeah, but that ainʼt me,” Gladio rebutted, cold fury to hot rage. “I donʼt wanna die for something that could just be easily taken away from me. Look at you now. All that power, all that wealth, all that dirt, that blood in your hands and where does that put you? Down here, like the rest of us.”

Ferro laughed out maniacally. “You must not know anything about me.” 

“We wouldnʼt have been able to fool you into following us blindly down here if we didnʼt,” Ignis said. “Besides, there isnʼt much left to learn. You are a murderer and a thief, an abuser and a liar.” That laughter grew into a wild cackle. “Your false power has made you soft and a victim of your own crimes.” 

“What crimes?” Ferro jeered. “The crimes that you are accusing me of? I admitted to none of them! You canʼt use that flimsy recording against me.” 

“You really wonʼt do it?” Gladio tried again. 

Ferro glared at him. “I will. Admit. To nothing.” 

“ _Hey, Shield!_ ” A voice in Ignisʼ ear. 

Ignis sighed. “If only you can bring a lawyer down here. Though after all this, I doubt you would find it easy to secure a team to defend your skin.” 

“‘sup, Prince?” Gladio answered the voice, tapping the device in his ear softly. 

“ _Itʼs done,_ ” Noct announced. “ _The receipts are online. You should have seen our reporters practically run away with them._ ” He cackled on the other line. “ _Iʼve never seen them that excited since that crystal theft case!_ ” 

“ _Ooooh, and weʼre trending!_ ” Prompto swooned. 

“Did you send everything?” Ignis asked, relying on the mic on Gladioʼs earpiece to pick up his message. Ferro was glaring at him, though he continued to ignore him. 

“ _Nah, I kept some,_ ” Noct replied. “ _But the ones I dropped are pretty huge, mind. The Ferro Assets is one of them. Thought the Shield might like that._ ” 

“Thanks for taking the trouble, Prince,” Gladio replied. 

“Weʼll take it from here.” Ignis nodded to his boyfriend to signal the end of the call.

“ _Okay, then. See ya!_ ” 

And then Noct and Prompto were gone. 

Ignis pulled out a dagger and reached behind Ferro to cut him loose. Gladio stood close by to watch him just in case their mark might think about pulling a fast one. 

“And what game shall we play this time?” Ferro mused in a breezy manner. 

“That would depend on you,” Ignis answered, taking all the ropes with him to leave no evidence. “As for my friend and I, we are done.” 

“Yeah.” Gladio took Ferroʼs hand and slapped his buzzing phone onto his palm. “Thanks for playing. Donʼt change your facial recognition.” He pointed to him with a warning finger. “Makes it easier to hack through your stuff.” He sauntered back to Ignisʼ side, gesturing to the device. “And you might wanna pick that up. Sounds important.” 

Ferro looked loath to follow his advice but whatever it was he saw on his phone made him stare at his screen. He answered the call in some urgency, almost muttered out a greeting but was stopped by whatever it was he heard. 

When those eyes flew to their direction, shock etched in every vein, Ignis knew, then, that they had done it, and he breathed out in relief. All that work had paid off. His involvements publicized, it would be difficult for him to ever get back on his lofty mountain, if at all possible. 

Ferro was gone before Ignis could get another word in. Though how he was going to return to the surface from there, without his men, Ignis didnʼt know. Or perhaps a rat like him would know the ways of the sewers… 

“Ah, shit,” Gladio tutted suddenly. 

Ignis whirled to him. “Gladio?” 

“Forgot to pay him back for hitting you.” 

Ignis huffed. “I think at this rate, you ought to be waiting for change.” He took one of his boyfriendʼs hands. “We both know that physical pain ranks the least among others. This isnʼt something that will keep me up late for days.” 

“Fine,” Gladio muttered, running his thumb over his tender cheek. But then the frown was back, and he shook free from Ignisʼ grasp so _he_ could be the one to hold his wrist as he led him out of the alley. 

It figured that he would take him to the pharmacy for some medical alcohol. The substance stung on Ignisʼ cheeks but he couldnʼt stop himself from giggling while Gladio wiped them clean—as if he hadnʼt suffered a week of being maltreated for the man himself. 

And then to wrap it all up, Gladio pressed a wet kiss on both of them. Ignis enjoyed that, at least. 

“Did he do anything else to you?” he asked, cupping his face. They stood just next to the shop but these romantic gestures were hardly anything noteworthy in a place like Wall Market. “Did he grope you again? Did he kiss you anywhere else?” 

“It was just a lot of empty threats and uncomfortable closeness,” Ignis reported. It was useless to assure him on these matters, he learned this on the night Ferro had shown him the video they recorded. “Oh, and talking about his fetish in public.” He shuddered again at those words. “Which was quite gross.” 

Gladio clicked his tongue and hissed as he pulled Ignis to him. Ignis had to hide his smile, try to pretend he wasnʼt enjoying that hug more than he was meant to. “I wish you hadnʼt gone through all of that just for a sorry piece of a man. When I saw how you looked so small and scared beside him, it was all I could do not to kill him then and there.” 

“I thought you might actually do that when we were distracting him,” Ignis shared. “You were so close to him, it would have been the easiest thing for you to just rip his windpipe off. But Iʼm so proud of you for holding back.” 

“Only because of you,” Gladio sighed. 

“Iʼm glad for it, then,” Ignis chuckled, patting him on the back. 

“Do you think he recognized you?” he asked after a pause, still swathed in Gladioʼs arms. “When he asked you who you are?” 

“Canʼt say,” Gladio answered after another beat. “Frankly, at this point, I donʼt care. Let the whole Planet know Gladiolus Amicitiaʼs back in Midgar. Iʼll scare ‘em off even before they come close enough to smell me.” 

“That would be a sight to see,” Ignis laughed again. He pulled his arms tighter around him. He shouldnʼt take this for granted, he thought. That he could still hold his love like this, be full of his warmth and his scent…if at least one part of their plan had gone wrong, he might not be fortunate enough to enjoy this. He might be dead, or worse, stuck in some 5-star hotel room, unable to escape. 

Dreadful. Ignis knew he would have been capable enough to prevent that but there was the imperishable _what if_. What if he wasnʼt? What if he calculated wrong, what if this, what if that… 

“Ignis,” Gladio mumbled, catching on when he buried his face in the crook of his neck. “Something wrong?” 

“One of his threats was quite distasteful,” Ignis confessed. “I just had a realization that…if things had gone differently, I might not be in these arms, laughing like a fool. I might be somewhere else, instead, hoping to die. Itʼs a cruel thought, I shouldnʼt let it trifle me.” 

“Hey,” Gladio whispered, laying a hand on his head. “I got ya. We put a lot at risk just to make this thing work. And you went through so much even when you said you could handle them. These things come with the prize, I guess. Least we got to the part where they ainʼt real. And when youʼre having those thoughts,” he tilted Ignisʼ face upwards so he could catch his smirk, “least you got these old girls to hide in.” What better way to banish them indeed. 

With a smile, Ignis nodded, then tilted himself forward to land a kiss on Gladioʼs mouth. That, too, that was real. “I love you truly, Gladiolus Amicitia,” he whispered. 

“I love you back, Ignis,” Gladio promised him. “I canʼt tell you how much Iʼm grateful for you.” That was rhetorical. 

But Ignis smiled at the opening it gave him. “Then show me. Come home with me tonight. Banish these thoughts the way only you know how. Tomorrowʼs a Saturday, we can sleep in.” 

A thought that made Gladio laugh between them, but without another word, he nodded, brushing his thumb lovingly over the shape of Ignisʼ lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the insomnia card game is inspired from _avalon_ which is pretty fun! 
> 
> also we now have an ending in sight!! i mean we always have but i only now became sure of when or how it will happen XD two more chapters left, friends! thank you for all your continued support thus far 💕💕💕


	16. Chapter 16

Ferro never made a reappearance in the office. And then before the day ended, Ignis learned that the man had resigned—or so the gossip said. Whether or not he did was neither here nor there, of course. He was gone, and that was all that mattered. 

As for what he and his friends did, the news was still full of them. At least two camps had publicly announced that they were filing multiple cases of fraud against him. Various victims of abuse had also come up to share their stories, and there was public clamor for a handful of politicians and businessmen to explain their relationship with the most hated criminal of the season. At least those were the biggest headlines. 

Despite that, Prompto stayed away from the office, preferring the life of a roving cameraman which meant Noct had to stick around with Ignisʼ busy schedule. He enjoyed it a little more than burning time in the archives, at least, although he was always yawning between 1 to 4pm. Though he had learned enough by now to at least be more efficient. 

Thanks to him, Ignis had enough time to make dinner for him and Prompto whenever there was a request for his specialties, and even to catch another show in the _Honeybee Inn_ in the center VIP table. A gift from his apparently-rich boyfriend who wanted to erase any bad taste the night of the operation might have left. This time, he enjoyed himself thoroughly, watching Gladio strut and sway his stuff knowing it was for him and him alone. 

“You know, I joined that place ‘cause I thought itʼd help me catch their attention,” Gladio shared to him after sex. He laid down on his back with Ignis on top of him, his fingers either patting his ass lightly or tracing the shape like a spider. Ignis busied himself by trying to smooth out the creases of his necktie, which theyʼd used as a gag for Gladio to keep his voice down. “Itʼs like what you did, I wanted to use myself as bait. Before I came here, I thought I could convince them to bring me to a hotel room for a little you-know-what. And then Iʼd get to confront them on their own right there and then.” He laughed softly. “Didnʼt turn out the way Iʼd planned.” 

“I have to admit, I was a little surprised to receive that invitation for tonightʼs show,” Ignis replied, placing the ruined necktie beside his boyfriendʼs head. “I thought that after everything you did, Andrea would have surely fired you by now.” 

“Heʼs one of a kind,” Gladio chuckled. “Looks-wise, I ainʼt his type. I got scars, Iʼm no dainty flower…but I guess he had a sense that I wasnʼt just someone looking to be a star or something. He found out I had a score to settle, so he let me through after I proved to him I could dance.” 

“Have you always danced when you were young?” 

“Just now, actually,” Gladio laughed a little louder this time. “But itʼs kinda like fighting without the punching and the slashing so itʼs not bad.” 

“No, not at all.” Ignis pulled himself a little higher to smile at him. “I remember coming to the first show mostly out of curiosity and as a favor to Prompto, and then coming out with quite an infatuation for a certain big-bodied dancer. You were consistently the best and sexiest performer in the house.” 

“This is why I love you.” Gladio grinned before they kissed. “Though I guess I got Angela to thank for that, too. Dʼyou know she spoke up against Ferro in her Warker?” 

“She did?” Ignis furrowed his brows. “Did he move inappropriately towards her, as well?” 

“Nah, it was about you.” One of his hands came up to Ignisʼ head to brush his short locks. “But she just talked about how he was a rude VIP who made his companion uncomfortable and walked out before the show ended. Just to add to the noise.” 

“I should thank her.” 

“I already did,” Gladio assured him. “You know, that place ainʼt bad. Itʼs not perfect, thereʼs VIP treatment even among the dancers but since I donʼt care about being a star, just being somewhere I could do my work in peace, I donʼt mind the disparity. And they all wanted to help us catch the wolf, like a vengeance of the slums against the topsiders. Thatʼs why no one stepped up to help ya with Ferro.” 

“Now I see I should thank _all_ of them.” Ignis laid himself down on his chest again. “Perhaps I should make something for them, as well.” 

“Yeah…yeah, like that…” Gladioʼs brows quivered downwards. “That…that Chocobo thing you made for Jared. What was that again? Rou…roulette or something…” 

“Roulade.” Ignis beamed. “Close enough but not quite. Has he gotten it?” 

“Yeah. I was supposed to go up to meet him but he went down instead.” A quiet sigh. “Even when I told him he was too old to be risking it. But I guess he got worried about all the news heʼs hearing about Ferro until he found out it was us. Itʼs like the first time you met him, but with Morie.” 

“Iʼm curious about him,” Ignis frowned. “So you mean to tell me that all this time he thought you were dead, he never moved a muscle here in Midgar? Even to run away?” 

“We uh…” Gladio stretched out his lips into a line. “It…it wasnʼt really like that. He knew Iris and I were alive but we didnʼt tell him where. He only found out I came back when I left him my Honeybee calling card in the mail. So…you could say heʼs been holding out for that long for this day.” 

“Where did you get this man?” Ignis had to laugh when he asked that question. “Any other servant would have left as soon as heʼd learned of his masterʼs death and involvements.” 

“Not a guy like Jared.” Gladio shook his head. “Practically helped Mom raise Iris and I, even when he became a grandfather. His loyalty is…well, I guess you can say it costs more than money.” His eyes shifted downwards a little, and there was a brief pause where Ignis noted the silence. “Dad…actually put a few properties to his name. Well, that is…he moved some of ours to him, both for him to use and um…for us.” 

Ignis curled his brows in intrigue about his change of mood. “Thatʼs very generous of him.” Was that the right thing to say? 

“Yeah,” Gladio replied, just so he could. “Well, he…did this when Shinra started hounding us. He knew that all this attention could put our own assets…my inheritance at risk…so he dispersed them and put some under the Hestersʼ name…” He was not yet done. 

Ignis nodded. “I see,” he said, urging him on. 

A flicker of a smile graced Gladioʼs lips. “So…Iʼm thinking of moving back. Topside. Now that I ainʼt hiding, and I donʼt want Jared to keep coming down here just ‘cause Iʼm here and heʼs stubborn as a Chocobo. But…” He tilted his head a little. “Iʼll only do it if youʼre coming with me.” 

Well…Ignis wouldnʼt say he wasnʼt expecting this. Gladio had already said as much back in the motel but that time, it had only been an open invitation. This time, there was…in a way, it was like an ultimatum. And who was he kidding, of course he would love to! No matter what it was they said, topside was topside, and he loved Gladio. 

“Iʼd love to move in with you,” Ignis answered. 

Gladio smiled for that. “But…?” 

It was Ignisʼ turn to copy that smile, matched with curious brows to throw off Gladioʼs suspicion. “But…?” 

“But what?” Gladio expounded, the irony of it making him laugh in his breath. “Thatʼs exactly the kinda thing Iʼll say if I had a but. Single t.” 

Ignis batted him playfully on his chest for that. Then shifted so he could play with his nipple. “But Iʼve lived down here all my life. Sector 7 has been my one and only home. And my neighbors, the community, theyʼve been a part of my life ever since. If…if I left them to seek out my own personal joy…” 

“Itʼd feel like betraying them, huh?” Gladio nodded. “I understand. You slummers have the right to have your own sense of pride, too.” 

“ _We_ slummers?” Ignisʼ brows flew. 

“Hey, Iʼm just a wolf in sheepʼs clothing.” Gladio shrugged. “Now that you know Iʼm a topsider…I canʼt keep on pretending I know your pain, can I? Thatʼs just not fair with you guys. Bet all I got was an appetizer of your poverty.” 

That made Ignis giggle. “But youʼre a good wolf.” He tapped Gladioʼs lips with his finger. “You’re welcome in this community. And youʼre _my_ wolf.” He drew himself up to kiss him again. 

This time, Gladio knocked on his lips with his tongue to be let in. Ignis moaned when he felt him brushing up on his own tongue, his teeth, the inside of his cheeks and up the roof of his mouth. Gladio pulled back soon enough to flick it over his lips. “Sit on my face.” 

Ignisʼ eyes grew, and he would never be able to deny the sparkle in it or the hard-on it got him. “You’re certain?” 

“Yeah,” Gladio insisted with a devilish grin. “The better to eat you with.” That was a pun that stroked his libido again. 

Ignis couldnʼt keep his giddy giggling to himself when he pressed an eager kiss on Gladio and snatched the necktie off his side. He was up on his knees by the time he had gagged himself, maneuvering himself up to his boyfriendʼs face with the help of the man himself. With those large hands on his ass, he dipped himself slowly into Gladioʼs waiting mouth, feeling his warm welcome with the wet slithering of his tongue along his head.

—

They parted without Ignis giving Gladio a sure answer of when they were moving up, or if he was coming with, at all. There was only the clear indication that Ignis wasnʼt averse to the possibility but the conditions leading to it were still largely unstated.

So Gladio stayed on under the city, and they went on as they always did before—daily calls, late dinners, sometimes a little sex before they called it a night. But Gladio made it clear that no matter how long they waited, the ending would be both of them sharing a house on the upper plate. 

“ _Jaredʼs already got the pantry stocked with food,_ ” Gladio shared over the phone, on speaker again while Ignis was packing some of his private entertainment in a box for disposal—his older dildos, vibrators, even the devices that contained his personal media collection. It had been days, weeks even, since he ever felt the mood for them again and with a willing partner like Gladio besides, they paled in comparison. They would be a good starting point in his vague journey of moving up. “ _Says heʼll come back to change the dishes soon. Think heʼs more excited about me coming up than I am._ ” 

“I think itʼs simply the joy of being back in service,” Ignis chuckled. “No man enjoys being idle for too long, least of all a man of devotion like Jared is. He probably feels like the family you left to look for a job in Midgar. Or SOLDIER.” 

“ _Thanks, I feel bad now._ ” 

Ignis grinned when they shared a laugh. “Did you tell him Iʼm coming with you?”

There was a beat of silence where Ignis heard the familiar sounds of a break room. And then came sputtering laughter before Gladio asked, “ _Y, you sure? I mean, I havenʼt told him yet ‘cause I didnʼt wanna put any pressure on ya…b, but I can! If you want?_ ” 

“I think it would be prudent for him to know as early as now,” Ignis said, trying to sound unfazed despite the smile that brightened him up. “Iʼm cleaning up as we speak.” 

“ _Oh yeah?_ ” He could hear Gladioʼs excitement all the way from the nightclub. “ _Iʼll tell him, then! So I guess weʼre moving soon?_ ” 

Ignis laid his hand on the box as he flipped one of its lids close. “Perhaps, I still donʼt know,” he admitted after a moment. “But I know for certain that it isnʼt fair to make you wait while I hem and haw. That it is better for me to take steady steps until Iʼm ready to move in with you. I _want_ to move in with you, Gladio.” He heard Gladio sigh. “That much, too, I am certain of.” 

“ _Man,_ ” he said. “ _Thank you, Ignis. Really, I appreciate this._ ” 

“Itʼs no hardship on my part,” Ignis assured him. “The hard part will be in saying goodbye but Iʼm willing to go through that for yo—” 

The door burst suddenly with four booming beats, like the angry pounding from his unwanted visitors the night he was kidnapped. Ignis couldnʼt stop himself from gasping and jumping, struck by the trauma of what he went through. 

“ _Ignis! Ignis, donʼt open that door—_ ” 

“Ignis Scientia?” More urgent knocking. “Ignis Scientia, please, are you in there?” He said _please_. 

“Itʼs fine, Gladio.” Ignis clambered up to his feet but despite that, he wouldnʼt force his heart to calm down as he went for one of his daggers on his desktop, tucking it behind his forearm. “Itʼs just my neighbor.” 

“ _You sure? Donʼt hang up!_ ” 

“I wonʼt,” Ignis promised. With deep breaths, he unlocked the door and took a peek through the crack. 

The man was young, or looked younger than him, dressed in the clothes of the undercity. And he was alone. 

Ignis started to calm down but there was a look about his visitor that told him that something bad was going to happen. His eyes were round and distracted and his skin nearly white. “What is it?” he asked. 

“Wymer sent me. We need your help,” he squeaked. “We need to get everyone out of Sector 7 now.” 

“Whatʼs going on?” Ignis pushed the door wider. Was that gunfire he was hearing in the distance?

“Itʼs Shinra,” the harbinger choked. “Theyʼre bringing the plate down on us.”

—

There was no time for a proper goodbye. Or to pack up or to do much at all than to take what he could and leave without looking back.

He left his neighbors to look after each other, the frail Grandmama most of all, while he dashed down the street and started knocking on all the doors he could find, shouting, “Theyʼre bringing down the plate! You need to get out of here now!!” It should have been a simple task—rouse the whole neighborhood, direct them to the closest escape routes mapped out by the Watch and then get himself out before the worst happened. 

Panic was never a good friend to sense, though. Where survival should have been the only thing in mind right now, many of them had stepped out to see the gunfire up the pillar, only to dive back in to pull all their drawers and start packing. Some others had gotten stuck on the sight to point and gape, and then there were those who insisted that they couldnʼt leave their house, their material things, their secret treasures behind. 

Ignis had had to pull several people out of their houses, in whatever states of undress, and shove them down the direction where other people were running off to. One man had swung a fist at him in anger when he prevented him from going back in to wait for his husband. 

He stepped back easily, grabbed him by the back of his collar and shoved him up to the wall. Then he called for one of Neighborhood Watch to drag his stubborn hide off to the exit. 

That was just one street, and there were several more yet that needed help and too little of them who _could_ help. Ignis took one deep breath, gazing up to the fire show at the pillar, close to the plate, before he went off to the direction where he could hear more screaming. 

His phone rang at the most inopportune time but Ignis answered it, anyway. 

“ _Hey, hey, hey, what the hell is this Iʼm hearing about the plate coming down?!_ ” Noct cried. 

“ _Ignis, are you out of there?!_ ” Prompto followed after him. It was a conference call in their Chocobo Farm chat group. 

Unimportant but Ignis could put it to good use. “There are people who still need help getting out, we are working as fast as we can!” he answered, shouting in the midst of the angry bullets and the crying hysteria. “I need you all to spread the word, tell everyone to stay away from Sector 7!” 

“ _Already done here,_ ” Gladio reported. “ _Andreaʼs canceled the show but heʼs locked up the nightclub so no one goes home to Sector 7. Iʼm on my way to the stables—_ ” 

“Gladio, donʼt come here!” Ignis had to stop in his tracks when he barked that order. 

“ _Iʼm not, but I gotta tell them not to go there too, yʼknow?!_ ” Gladio snapped back. “ _Ignis, I know youʼre the only one there right now but Noct, Prompto and I wanna help as much as we can!_ ” 

“ _Heʼs right!_ ” Prompto piped up. 

“ _Just get yourself outta there soon as possible, okay?_ ” Noct added. “ _And call us when you can!_ ” 

Ignis nodded. “I understand. Stay safe, all three of you.” 

“ _You, too, Ignis!_ ” Prompto replied quickly. 

Ignis hung up and hurried back to his work. Most of the houses he passed looked empty but he went through them as thoroughly as he could, just in case. 

Found a woman cowering under her bed, someone he might have missed if he hadnʼt noticed a foot sticking out. It was difficult to get her out without causing more fright but Ignis threw all caution to the wind when he grabbed her by the foot and dragged her out screaming to the door. 

He earned a sharp slap for that, among many others until he shook her violently to bring her out of her wild panic. “Save the energy for running!!” He couldnʼt stop himself from crying to her face. 

“Get me back inside!!” she shrieked, struggling out of Ignisʼ vice-like grip but only succeeded in loosening her hair tie. “Iʼm scared, the plate is going to fall!!” 

“If you stay inside, the plate _will_ still fall!” he shouted back. “Thereʼs already an escape plan, we need to go now!” 

When she still chose to scream and bawl in her horror, though, Ignis had no choice but to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the nearest escape route—a crack on the wall, still fresh from having been torn wide open by an explosive. Where it would lead, Ignis didnʼt know, but that was the Watchʼs problem now. 

And so was she the moment she took off through the portal. Ignis had turned to run off himself until someone had called him, another member of the Watch with a gun slung across his back. 

“Where you goinʼ?” 

“I need to look for others,” Ignis exhaled, hopping backwards on his feet. “The plate is about to fall, there may still be people who need help!” 

“Just go with him!” The man posted by the wall nodded his friend towards Ignis. 

Ignis accepted his offer with a nod and hurried down the closest street with him. 

“Whatʼs going on, anyhow?” Ignis hadnʼt found an opportunity to ask that question until now, while he was shoving doors open and knocking on them with his partner. There were a few stragglers here and there, bursting out with full bags and boxes but as long as they were escaping, Ignis kept his sharp tongue to himself. “Why are they bringing the plate down on us?!” 

“They found out AVALANCHE lives here,” the man answered, looking through a window. “Theyʼre done playing cat and mouse so theyʼre just gonna snip the wires on us.” 

“Are they certain?” 

“Yeah, you didnʼt know?” They stopped to look at each other. “Seventh Heaven, thatʼs their base!” That bar that was always so full of life. What would happen to it? 

“Iʼve caught wind of it,” Ignis said in a juvenile effort to defend himself. “But it isnʼt as if I have time to pay attention to every gossip I hear, or that they advertise their identities.” They started inspecting houses again. “Still, what is Shinra thinking? If they bring down the plate, even the topsiders—” 

“They donʼt care about the people, Ignis,” his partner cut him off, stopping to pick up an escaping residentʼs books. “They only care about what they get in the end.” He should have known this, of course. He _did_. Still, the idea of wiping out an entire population for the sake of a handful of dissenters…! 

“ _Heeelp!_ ” It sounded like a girl, her thin voice barely audible amidst the gunfire. 

“A child,” Ignis hissed, the moment he saw her—skinny and dirty, flat on the ground, her hands black as if sheʼd been crawling since the evacuation began. A glance on her crooked leg, shorter than her other one, was enough to tell him why: she was disabled, and in everyoneʼs haste, had been forgotten. 

“I need to get her out of here,” he breathed, coming down to his knees so she could crawl herself up to his arms. All her tears had dried up. “Can you finish up?” 

“Yeah,” his companion said, looking around. “Go, I got this!” 

As soon as she was secured in his arms, Ignis took off back to the crack in the wall. By now, this side of the sector looked sufficiently empty, and Ignis thought it was about time he left himself—

The limp woman screamed for him to watch out, pointing to the metal skies. Ignisʼ heart fell—he was too late, the plate had fallen. A chunk of it was spinning down on them with a fiery tail. 

_Oh, Gladio,_ he sighed, shutting his eyes and turning away from the inevitable. Would that his last memory of this hard life was Gladioʼs smile—

The plate crashed with a terrible boom of metal and earth, a blast of fire burning the air over his shoulders, bringing the smell of petrol into his lungs. Everything was devoured by the roar of thunder. 

And then it stopped altogether. 

Ignis dared to open his eyes. Found dirt beneath his feet, the shape of a body on his arm. 

A young girl, trembling and sobbing, clinging to his collar. Still here. 

He was still there. Still alive, the plate hadnʼt fallen. 

Ignis whirled back to find the way to the wall blocked by a helicopter, shattered and scorched on the ground. With the flames reaching upwards to the plate, there was no way he could negotiate a path through to safety. He would need to find a different exit. 

“Hold on to me,” he muttered to the girl, shifting her on his arm before he took off to a dash.

—

He found an exit through a tunnel that led down to the sewers and up again, arriving at a derelict park where the rest of the residents had congregated for safety. After catching up with a few friends and familiar faces, he dove back underground, searching for more of his neighbors who needed help.

That was when a great yawning roar erupted overhead, and it felt like the entirety of Midgar had come crashing down to their roof, echoing loudly against the iron surfaces and sending them all down to their faces. Not for the first time, Ignis thought to himself, _Iʼm going to die._

When the silence left only the dust and the clattering pebbles, everyone picked themselves up and hurried onwards, or back the way they came, calling out names and pleas. Ignis took a moment to dust himself and clean his glasses. A quick survey told him that his bag was intact, the daggers around his waist and his gloves—though the old leather had torn through. 

He was none the worse for wear, which meant he had no reason not to keep going. It was difficult to breathe with all the dust in the air but it wasnʼt like they had much of a choice. They had work to do, loved ones to search for. 

“Excuse me,” he wheezed, stepping through a sparse crowd of people stunned, gaping or wailing on their knees. They stood around the steel staircase that led up to the surface, flanked by two members of the Watch. He used to work with one of them. 

His friend recognized him instantly despite his harrowed state. “Ignis!” 

“Indeed,” Ignis coughed, shifting his glasses. “Iʼm here to help.” 

“We canʼt let you through, Ignis.” 

“What?” he breathed, staring at both of them in some confusion. “Why not? Iʼve just been helping these people, Wymer sent for me—” 

“They dropped the plate, man.” 

Ignis whipped to the other volunteer, looking shaken where he stood. “What?” Whispered. 

“Itʼs true, Ignis,” his friend added. “They really did it.” Shinra really decided to crush them like insects. So that deep roar that he heard was… 

Unbelievable. Ignis stared, feeling winded for the first time since he was called from his house. It was one thing to hear that they were going to do it, to hear _why_ they would do it. But to _know_ that they actually did…how little their lives and plans weighed in the end… 

“Did we get everyone out?” he asked them. Neither of the two made any attempt to answer. 

It was some time before they allowed anyone up. They needed help to look for survivors, to bring them out. 

Ignis was the first to go up—the first to witness the changed world of what had been his own since he was young: shattered, bright with fire and the stars scattered across the deep blue skies of the night overhead. 

It was the strangest thing, seeing them so high up from where he stood, when he was used to looking at them higher up the plate. So daunting, in fact, as if the whole Planet had been detached from its own pillar and was now falling away, farther from the skies. 

Most of the survivors had fallen to the ground or under debris and were in hardly any state to move. Ignis administered whatever first aid he could offer before he carried them down to the canal where the other volunteers would look after them. The important part was to get them clear of any potential accidents the plate fall could still lead to—unstable structures, sudden explosions, a miniature landslide… 

And yet there were still so many parts that were inaccessible, areas where Ignis thought he could still hear voices. Then again, the operating word was _thought_. Deep in his ears, there were still the blasts of bullets and exploding engines, the screaming, the growl of fires… 

“Ignis,” someone from the Watch clasped him on the shoulder and nudged him to the direction of the tunnel, “pull back. Cole smells gas.” A sign of danger. 

Ignis nodded and retreated with him. Down the canal, up the park, into the night and then out of it. An endless cycle that seemed to have been imprinted into Ignisʼ bones without his knowing. 

Without anyone to carry, he focused then on keeping his hands busy—patching up wounds, tying up slings. The night was still young and there were many others yet who would turn up long before it was over. They needed to be made time for, as well. 

“You need to rest,” a woman from the Watch told him, laying a hand on his arm. Rest, what was rest? Rest was for those buried under the rubble, never to see light again. Ignis had been called to help and there was so much of it that still needed to be done and he could do it. 

“We all need to rest,” Ignis said instead, patting her hand in reassurance. “But there are those of us who can still keep going. And if there is any time that the community needs us, it is now.” How could he abandon the people who had raised him and been raised with him now, when he was needed the most? 

She didnʼt try to push him again and left to attend to the others. It wasnʼt her job to concern herself especially with him, that honor belonged to someone else. 

“Ignis?!” that familiar deep voice thundered suddenly from the distance. “ _Ignis!!_ ” 

There was no way Ignis could ignore that call now, not when the man had almost become the last person in his mind, if he hadnʼt been so lucky to survive the helicopter crash or the plate fall. It seemed so easy then to dismiss those pining thoughts as products of his fear and his panic. But now that the man was there, in flesh and bones, he couldnʼt bear to deny him, deny _himself_ even for the sake of the community. 

“ _Gladiooo!_ ” Ignis almost failed to carry himself up to his feet when he screamed his name. The first time he had shown— _felt_ any kind of weakness that was almost soul-deep. As if the Planet had finally given him permission to _need someone_ , as opposed to always being the one who was needed. His feet moved towards the man without needing any thought from his head to encourage them. 

His presence made Gladio drop his sword with an ugly clang just as he hurried towards him, reaching with his inked arms. Halfway across the distance, Ignis decided it would be better to just stand still and wait for the man to come scoop him up. 

Which he did, when he reunited them both in a crushing embrace, nose pressed onto his shoulder. Ignisʼ own arms flew up around his back on reflex, as they so often would in happier or worse times though they were too tired to squeeze back tonight. 

“You okay?” Gladioʼs voice was muffled before he put him down and laid a shaking hand on his cheek, looking closely into his eyes. Touching his wrist, Ignis nodded several times. “You okay, Ignis? Did you get hurt anywhere?” 

“I…” He probably did but he didnʼt know where. Couldnʼt remember, anyway. Ignis coughed, distracting himself with his torn gloves and dirtied sleeves which yielded him no clue. He was nodding again when he answered. “‘m fine…” 

“You look like youʼve been through several kinds of hell.” Gladioʼs voice sounded heavy with the weight of his worries when he dusted him down, ran his fingers through his hair. “Weʼve been calling you but you wouldnʼt pick up. Then I heard that some of you made it to Evergreen Park so I came to check. Iʼm glad I found you.” The thought of the other possibility made his words quiver. 

Ignis realized then that he hadnʼt bothered to check his phone since that last conversation with the three of them. He did it now to check, only to drown in the number of missed calls and messages trying to reach him—Gladio, Noct, Prompto, Cindy, his officemates, Reeve… 

It left a bitter taste in his mouth so he stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Shinra had done this and now Shinra was calling. “My apologies,” he said to Gladio instead, “Iʼve been in and out of Sector 7 since the plate fell. There are simply too many people to look for.” 

“I canʼt believe those bastards actually did it,” Gladio snarled, baring his teeth. “I canʼt believe we live in this kind of place…” Neither could Ignis. 

But what was done was done, and it was up to them to pick up the pieces. He took one of Gladioʼs hand and grasped it fiercely…or as fiercely as he could manage. 

His boyfriend sighed, watching his fingers shake with the effort. He hissed again. “You’re really weak. Iʼm takinʼ you back with me topside.” 

Ignis shook his head. “You go on ahead of me. Iʼll just finish up here—” 

“Ignis, this ainʼt overtime or homework!” Gladioʼs voice was measured but that was a clear protest. “This thing will never end even after you fall asleep. Youʼll just wake up and do it all over again, day in and day out.” His frown turned dark, creased sharply by his anxieties. “And I donʼt wanna see the day you just…burn out and faint before I carry you up with me.” 

“Gladio…” Ignis shook his head. “We need all the help we can get.” 

“Thereʼs not much you can give at this rate. You might just get in the way of others.” 

“But my neighbors!” His uncle said he had to be strong enough to live for them. 

Gladio whirled back over his shoulder. “Hey! Iʼm takinʼ this guy with me, any questions?” 

“Go right ahead,” Wymer answered. 

He must have seen it all from the back, Ignis thought. But now he materialized from behind Gladioʼs shoulder to nod to him. “Go on, you look tired. There are other, healthier volunteers coming from other sectors. Iʼm not saying this to be ungrateful but one less mouth to mind would be a big help to us.” In fact, those people that Ignis pulled out of their houses, he couldnʼt find them, anymore. They must have gone to live elsewhere. They all needed to survive this, after all… 

Gladio tipped his head to Wymer. “Iʼll take care of him.” Then to Ignis, he coaxed him gently with a tug on his hand. “Cʼmon. Iʼm getting you out of here.”

—

The trains were out of service—for obvious reasons. Which meant that they couldnʼt go through their usual route to get up over the plate.

Gladio had his ways, though, and before long they were stepping out of the emergency exit of the upper train station in Sector 5.

“We should stop,” Ignis mumbled. To get there, theyʼd had to go through a series of endless stairs connected by long corridors which he couldnʼt have accomplished on his own. So Gladio carried him on his back through it all while he held onto his sword, concealed in its black bag. 

Gladio glanced at him over his shoulder with a ready smile. “You feeling a little tired?” 

Ignis shook his head. “I feel better now. But _you_ are tired.” 

“I can take care of ya.” 

“You have been shifting me on your back since we reached the upper plate and with your sword, it must be no joke,” Ignis recited his observation to him. “Put me down. Weʼll rest a bit, and then weʼll continue. I should be able to walk now.” 

They sat on a bench near the main gate of the station. Gladio bought them both bottles of water from the vending machine nearby. After a few more minutes where Ignis nearly slept on Gladioʼs shoulder, they were back on their feet, the sword now slung along his back. 

“You’re a lot heavier than you look,” Gladio told him. 

Ignis smiled wanly to their feet. He hung on to Gladioʼs arm like a tether. “Or perhaps youʼre a lot weaker than you appear.” He grinned when Gladio laughed. “Are we close?” 

“Yeah.” Gladio nodded, pointing onwards. “See that bus stop over there? Weʼll cross the road then turn left.” 

It was a quiet neighborhood, a luxury afforded only to the rare few that chanced upon a good job with good connections. Ignis could almost imagine what the brochure would say: accessible via bus and train, friendly neighbors, clean water. The perfect lie to sell to dreamers. 

“Ignis!” 

He hadnʼt noticed when heʼd let go or landed on his knee. Only that somehow, he had ended up on the concrete and Gladio was pulling him up by his elbows. 

“Not much farther now,” Gladio grunted. “Cʼmere.” 

Ignis was like a doll when Gladio hoisted him up his arms, bringing his head to lean comfortably against his shoulder. He was curled like a babe and almost felt like it in his weakness. 

They were almost at the door when Gladio chuckled suddenly. Ignis inquired with a, “Hm…?” from his chest. “Just realized itʼs like Iʼm bringing my husband home from our wedding.” 

Another dream that would have been perfect, tickling another smile on Ignisʼ face. “Would that we could consummate our marriage tonight.” 

“I can wait.” Gladio smiled back closely to him. “You mind grabbing the keys? Itʼs near my ass.” 

That made him laugh, at least, although it was more on a vague chest movement than an actual sound. “No, not at all. You know me too well.” He reached back to his back pocket and extracted his keys from there. He opened the door for them, too. 

The whole place smelled exactly as it looked—clean and old, with furnitures that reminded him of when he was still a child, watching TV shows of rich families and their upper plate problems. Gladio carried him up the stairs, into a large bedroom where he laid him down on a bed so big and soft, he might drown in it. 

Gladio left his sword on the wall and disappeared. When he came back, he had a basin of water with him which he left on the nightstand so he could remove Ignisʼ glasses, his bag, his daggers, his clothes… 

“So much for waiting,” Ignis chuckled as soon as he got rid of his underwear, leaving him completely threadless on a coupleʼs bed. 

“You really are the horniest man that I know,” Gladio rebutted, to which they both laughed. 

“Only because you make my wildest dreams come true.” And he did—it wasnʼt just the sex, after all, it was…it was everything else that came with him. The comfort, the kindness and sweetness, the surprising gentleness hidden within those tattooed muscles. His smile, his smell, his lovely amber eyes. 

Watching him. Always watching him. 

He almost missed them, Ignis thought with a startling choke as Gladio pressed a damp towel on his face to clean him up. If heʼd let Morie or Ferro kill him, if heʼd let the plate crash on him, he would never be here to see them again. He was always being pulled away from them, always so close to losing them… 

He couldnʼt hold his tears back when he cupped Gladioʼs cheek, tracing his scar. Gladioʼs own eyes sparkled with his own emotions before he dried them at the back of his hand. Ignis had just whispered to him that he loved him before Gladio kissed him into silence, crushing their lips together. 

“You’re okay,” Gladio choked, sniffled while he wiped Ignisʼ tears with his damp cloth. “You’re fine, youʼre safe. Iʼll keep you safe from now on. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to extend the series bc the penultimate chapter got too long so i split it in two XD but it's done! i've finished writing the whole thing (which is also why this update might be a bit late)! will post the rest in the next few days ❤️❤️❤️


	17. Chapter 17

Ignis couldnʼt remember what happened before he fell asleep, or how he got to this luxurious bedroom at all, except that he did. 

When he woke up, he was still lying next to Gladio, though the man had since released him from his embrace. Even without sex, he still slept naked except for his briefs. 

Ignis laid a hand on his cheek, combed his wild hair softly. He would have wanted to stay in bed longer just to gaze at his half-parted lips, listen to his soft purring snore, if it werenʼt for the hollow pain in his stomach. Which felt worse than the aches on his arms and legs for a change. 

Everything in the room was white and cream—from the ceiling and its outdated domed light fixture, the bed, the cornices…down to the doors of the closets built into the walls and the folding dressing mirror that stood in the corner of the room, framed in ornate feathers carved into wood. 

That was a surprise, the first thing Ignis saw when he sat up on the bed, revealing to him the full extent of his nakedness and his injuries. Bruises along his knees and legs, little grazes…a similar story was told by his arms and shoulders. 

He must have spent an inordinate amount of time checking himself front and back in the mirror because his stomach made another complaint about its lack of nutrition. A brief investigation of Gladioʼs closet produced a button-down shirt and a pair of trainers, both a size too big for him but after rolling his sleeves and tightening the adjustable strap around his waist, they sufficed. 

Outside were two other sealed doors and downstairs, the living room with its beige, velvet lounge set and fat TV and then the kitchen, clean and spacious. Promising of good things. 

Gladio wasnʼt lying when he said that Jared had stocked it to the brim. There were canned goods, easy-to-cook stuff, sandwich spreads, various meats and breads in the freezer, butter, margarine, water, juice and beer… 

So many things but no eggs. Nothing that would expire before the master of the house could enjoy them. Ignis took out a bottle of water, the butter, and some deli meat to thaw. Then from the cupboard, a pancake mix along with some syrup. 

By the time Gladio had come calling for him, Ignis had already set down the plate of pancakes on the small table in the middle. “Iʼm here in the kitchen,” he called to him, hurrying back to the crackling stove. 

“Ignis! You shouldnʼt…holy shit, is that bacon?” 

It was bacon, and sausage links and ham. Ignis would have really wanted some egg to go with them but who was he to complain? Back in the slums, he would be fortunate to cook this much meat for himself! 

Gladio shuffled his way to his back, poked his nose over his shoulder to study the pan before Ignis aimed a sharp shrug to his chin then pushed him back. “Seeing as youʼre already up, perhaps you might be bothered to set the table instead,” he told him while he flipped the bacon. 

“Yeah, yeah, Iʼm on it—” Another dramatic gasp before he whispered, “Pancakes!” 

How could Ignis not laugh this time? If he knew it was going to be this joyful to cook for him, he thought he might have sooner come up to the surface with him. Though he had already moved earlier than he expected to but… 

“So, you feelinʼ okay, then?” Ignis could hear Gladio bumping the seats as he set down the various dishes they would need for a proper breakfast. “Donʼt feel like falling over or…?” He thought he was rushing. Making sure he had hands to catch Ignis if he swooned again? 

“Yes,” Ignis answered, keeping a smile to himself as he turned the sausages. “Iʼm positive.” For a change. “Though Iʼll feel much better once I have these ham slices in me. While youʼre at it, get me some plates. Iʼm about done here.” 

This was the first meal of his new life up above the pizza. The first breakfast he would ever share with Gladio. 

It was fun to watch him eat—the way he drizzled syrup liberally over his plate, how he would sweep up the grease from the bacon with triangle cuts of his pancakes. Enough to fill his spirits which had been tried by fire just last night. In that dark world, there had been no room for such little pockets of sunshine. 

Between the two of them, they managed to finish everything on the table. Ignis excused himself when he burped. 

Gladio only chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Seriously, I donʼt remember the last time I ate this much for breakfast. Pancakes and bacon?” He shook his head. “I thought I lost these with Mom and Dad.” 

“I reckon it would be better if we had eggs.” 

“Oh yeah,” Gladio bounced his head in agreement, “completely, 100%. Letʼs tell Jared to get us some eggs. Or we could just give him a list of things to buy.” He picked up his cup of coffee to sip. “Like some clothes thatʼd fit ya.” 

Ignis laughed and grinned. “You donʼt like me wearing my boyfriendʼs shirt?” 

“I like you in the shirt, not the pants.” Gladio set down his cup. “I prefer the shirt and no pants combination.” 

“Unfortunately, itʼs quite dangerous to be in the kitchen without any pants on.” Ignis started to stack the plates together. Gladioʼs seat groaned loudly when he got up. “Itʼs a hazard those romantic comedies and TV dramas donʼt highlight enough.” 

“Yeah, well, you canʼt blame them if it sells, yeah?” Gladio was on Ignisʼ side in one step, lifting the dishes out of his reach. “Iʼll take care of these. You wanna go ahead and use the shower?” 

“Gladio, Iʼll help.” 

“Ignis,” Gladio laid a hand on his shoulder when Ignis started to get up with their finished cups, “you did breakfast so leave the dishes with me. Actually, you shouldnʼt even be moving around just yet. Take it easy.” 

“Nonsense, Iʼve slept well, and I am full of breakfast.” Despite Gladioʼs efforts, Ignis forced himself up to his feet. “If we are to live together—” 

“Then you better let me take care of you, too,” Gladio cut him off, holding him now by both of his sleeves so he could look him in the eye. For a second there, Ignis thought Gladio might be right about his weakness because that handsome gaze had nearly turned his knees to jelly. “Thereʼs no need to make this a competition. Iʼll love ya, anyway, even if you donʼt cook anymore.” That made his heart soar. “Up the stairs, the room to the left at the opposite side. Leave the door open if you wanna wait for me.” Gladio finished that with a wink. 

Without much else he could do, Ignis thanked him for his help, pecked his lips and went up the stairwell, searching for that room. 

He heard his phone ringing, then, muffled by the door. A hissed curse seeped through his teeth when he realized that he hadnʼt called either Noct and Prompto just as he said he would. He went back in the bedroom, found his phone on the bed—

It was neither of them on his screen, but a reminder of the life he had left behind. Or thought he did…wanted to? 

Ignis put the phone on his ear. “Dire—” 

“ _IGNIS, thank the Planet and all that is holy!_ ” He could hear how strained Reeve was from his voice. “ _Iʼd imagined the worst. Iʼve been calling everyone I know who lives in Sector 7. Some of them…some of—look, Iʼm just glad youʼre alive!_ ” Ignisʼ brows and frown tightened with the taste of bitterness in his tongue. “ _Are you okay? Are you well? Are you safe?_ ” 

“Yes, Sir. Iʼm…” At a friendʼs house? At _his_ friendʼs house? “At my boyfriendʼs house.” Immediately after, Ignis thought he should have called him something else. His fiancé, his _husband_ even. It was strange, this inclination to lie. As if something so silly could distance himself from his past, give Gladio the power to control it. 

“ _Okay, thatʼs good._ ” Reeve seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “ _Thatʼs good to know. Listen, you donʼt have to come to work for a while, take as long as you need to rest, okay? Iʼll handle this and umm…_ ” A deep pause. “ _I, Iʼm really sorry…for what Shinra did. Iʼm sorry I couldnʼt stop them._ ” 

Ignis said nothing to the director. 

“ _Okay, be well._ ” Reeve finally hung up. 

Ignis dropped his phone back to the bed, though even without it, he could still hear Reeveʼs words echoing in his head. Loud in the silence, like the crash of the plate, the screaming and the gunfire. 

“Ignis?” Gladio came through the door. “Ignis…what? Whatʼs wrong?” He shuffled closer to him. 

“The director called me,” Ignis revealed. Even when Gladio sat next to him, he didnʼt pull himself to look at him. “He asked me how I was. If I was safe. He told me to take as long as I needed to rest.” 

“You…still going back?” Gladio ventured after a long second. 

Ignis shook his head. “I want no part of that circus.” 

“Okay.” That hand came to his hair again. “You donʼt have to.” 

“How do they get to do this, Gladio?” Ignis hissed, the cruelty of the injustice twisting his brows. “How is it that they can still pretend to care after taking away our home?” 

He felt Gladioʼs breath through his ears when he kissed his temple. “They had no right,” he rumbled. “They had no right. Iʼm sorry this happened to you, Ignis.”

Eyes shut tight, Ignis nodded. He was sorry, too, that this happened to him. He was sorry that he had met these people at all…

—

Gladio had made the mistake of switching on the news when he thought Ignis was still in the bathroom. Ignis would never admit this much, of course—not when he lingered at the foot of the stairwell to catch the drone shots of the shattered upper plate, flattened by the drop. But then the director of the peacekeeping division stood in front of the camera to pin the blame on AVALANCHE, promising due vengeance. That was when he announced his presence with a snarl as he stomped off, heading back up to their bedroom.

It had been difficult to pull him away from it since. Much less his phone while he made calls to his neighbors and the Watch, seeking out word from the people on the ground. 

“What did they say?” 

Ignisʼ shoulders rose and fell heavily, eyes lingering on their joined hands between their laps while they sat together on their bed. It was dark out but no one bothered to switch the lights on. “There is much work to be done. They have started to compile a list of missing people, and many of them have been found dead.” 

“Iʼm sorry.” 

Ignis shook his head. “You shouldnʼt be.” 

“I can be sad with you, though, canʼt I?” 

He raised his eyes to Gladioʼs gaze. 

“Thereʼs probably a song about this somewhere,” he continued, adding a little smile and a snort. “Probably around the time this house was built.” 

“I think I know that song,” Ignis said, finally smiling. Or trying to, knowing that he was sad. 

He lifted a hand to the line of Gladioʼs jaw, feeling his beard with a thumb. “Do forgive me for being ungrateful of your help and your presence.” 

“Ignis…” 

“Iʼm happy to be here,” Ignis insisted, weaving their fingers again. “Truly, I am. But I suppose I…Iʼm yet to come to terms with my displacement…and all the lies and deceit. Maybe living topside isnʼt as easy as I thought.” 

“Is it…are you…feeling guilty?” 

Gladio had asked the question out of concern and curiosity, but it made Ignisʼ brows curl in discomfort as he frowned at his perceived accusation. “It feels irresponsible to just be sitting here, doing nothing, enjoying the luxury of a comfortable bed and the man that I love. Where I should be down there, working and suffering with them. That was the life I was raised and taught to live but now my connection to it has been severed. And I am living my tomorrow too soon, too early that I havenʼt yet found…a proper equivalent to my old habits here in my new one.” He tilted his head to his shoulder. “Does that make sense?” 

Gladio pulled his lips to his cheek. “I…wanna say it does…” 

“I suppose I must always value you for your honesty.” They shared a smile and a kiss. “Do forgive me, Gladio.” 

“Forgiveness is for sinners,” Gladio told him. “I brought you here ‘cause you needed a new house and there ainʼt space in my bedroom in Wall Market. Doesnʼt matter to me if youʼre sad or guilty, least you get to be safe while youʼre doing it.” 

“Now Iʼm convinced that I did something in my previous life to deserve you in this one,” Ignis chuckled. “Thank you truly, Gladio. I needed to hear those words.” 

“Hope you recorded ‘em, then, ‘cause I donʼt remember the half of them.” This time, they shared a brief laughter before they sealed their lips together. And Ignis might have been tempted to chase his way to Gladioʼs lap with more kisses if he hadnʼt heard an electronic chime and beep of sorts from downstairs. Now, he eyed the man in curiosity—heʼd never heard that kind of sound before. 

Gladio looked at the time from the outmoded clock on the wall. “Guess thatʼs dinner. Iʼll go get it.” He was off even before Ignis could stop him. When did he order? 

Probably while he had stranded himself in their bedroom, he realized, and this was a huge place with concrete walls. It would be difficult to pick up anything from here. 

He had to fold his sleeves back a couple more times and readjust the trainers around his waist before he came down the stairwell in his borrowed slippers. The voices in the living room reached him, then. 

But it wasnʼt until heʼd seen the visitors himself that he believed his ears. “Noct, Prompto!” And he wasnʼt wearing any underwear inside Gladioʼs trainers. How interesting. 

“Ignis!!” Prompto could pretty much announce his presence to the entire neighborhood without much effort. He waved to him and then later tripped towards him to clasp his hand for a one-armed embrace. 

“Hey, didnʼt we tell you to give us a call once youʼre safe? We had to learn about it from Gladio!” was Noctʼs haughty greeting, already tearing an oozing slice of pizza from the rest of its siblings. They had brought three flavors of it, some deep-fried Chocobo and some chips. Accompanied by friends getting comfortable around the table… 

It looked like a real party, and a reminder of why Ignis was overjoyed to still be alive. “My apologies, I had to rescue some of my neighbors and was too tired by the time I had remembered to contact you.” He found his place next to Gladio across both friends and welcomed himself to some seafood pizza. “How thrilling it is to see you both, though!” 

“Well, itʼs not like you live far now, yʼknow?” Promptoʼs mouth was full of Chocobo. “Actually, you even moved closer now!” 

“So what happened down there?” Noct asked, piling chips into his mouth. 

That was the first time Ignis had ever shared the harrowing tale of his near-death and survival. Even Gladio hadnʼt heard it until then, and it was only because there were four of them in that room that Ignis managed to accomplish the retelling without falling into the trap of his thoughts. 

“You called them to come visit to cheer me up.” 

Gladio nodded when they had reached the end of his story of how the impromptu dinner came to be. By the time Noct and Prompto had gone, it was late, and Gladio and Ignis had retired to their bedroom. 

Ignis with his back to the carved headboard and his right foot on Gladioʼs thigh while he pressed and kneaded his sole with his thumbs. “Do you know that this is the first time I have had more than one visitor in a given time? Not counting the two bad memories.” 

Gladio smiled triumphantly at that news. “I didnʼt but now I do.” 

“I had fun, Gladio,” Ignis shared to him. “Thank you for doing this.” He was happy to do it, he thought. 

He heard it in his head when Gladio carried his foot higher to kiss its pad.

—

The next day, it was Jaredʼs turn to visit and the first time he and Ignis could speak without threats and secrecies. Heʼd come with several shopping bags of food and clothes—particularly ones that would finally fit Ignis without having to shorten the sleeves or tighten the waist.

“And this.” Gladio held up a discreet black gift bag that almost made him skip a heartbeat. Heʼd had something like that before…weeks ago. 

“You canʼt be serious,” Ignis exhaled when he took the package and pulled it open. The sight of a white lace made him laugh in shock. “Gladio, you _are_ serious!” He reached inside to pull out the flimsy fabric. 

“Look, you didnʼt have any underwear.” 

“Yes,” Ignis held the white lingerie up by its thick band. “But this is a jockstrap.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“With a little…” He brought the cock sheath to his hand to inspect the slit in the middle. “…with a little—” Ignis snorted painfully when he understood the design. “I see itʼs a little window for my penis.” 

“So your dick can come out and say hi whenever it likes!” Gladio grinned. “Look, Iʼm being real smart here.” 

“How thoughtful,” Ignis sighed, bringing Gladio to laughter. He tossed the lingerie back into its bag, still smiling. “You are ridiculous and silly, Gladio.” 

“Hey, least I make you laugh,” his boyfriend pointed out, chuckling with him. 

And he had laughed. He had smiled and he had been glad to still be alive, thanks to him who carried him all the way just to bring him to that place where he could laugh again. Gladio never tried to sabotage his sadness but he was always there to hold his hand before he lost himself to it. Always watching, a constant force of light in his dark times…

—

Maybe it was still too soon for him to take the next step of accepting his new life, but Ignis knew that he wanted to try. For Gladio, for a change.

How symbolic it was, then, to be trying on something that felt…new…and strangely exciting, quite snug, that left oneʼs buttocks completely unprotected from the fabric of his trousers. 

Despite his new clothes, Ignis still picked a couple of Gladioʼs for effect as he started down the stairwell, calling for his boyfriend. 

“Iʼm in the living room,” Gladio called back to him. 

He sat with his wrists over his crown, watching an old movie, completely relaxed. He only turned to Ignis with a ready smile when heʼd deposited himself next to him, reaching for the can of beer on the glass table for a little sip. “Why are you still wearing my clothes?” 

“I seem to recall us agreeing that you like it when I wear your clothes.” 

“I said the top, not the pants,” Gladio snorted with a lopsided smile on his face, eying his legs. “I said I like the shirt with no pants combination.” 

“Shall I take it off, then?” Ignis hooked his thumb onto the waistband. “Get in something more comfortable?” With a little pull, he revealed the white elastic strip hugging his waist on the inside. Gladioʼs eyes grew in recognition, and Ignis smirked knowingly. “Iʼll be in the bedroom, then. Donʼt let your bride wait too long.” _Bride_ —but given the design of the lingerie, it seemed more fitting to use that word. 

And it would signal Gladio what he was in for tonight. Ignis returned the can to the low table before he stood up and started back up the stairs. 

He left the shirt to pool on the doorway, and then the trainers on the floor in the middle. While he listened to Gladio switching off the TV and the lights downstairs, he took the time to inspect himself in the full-length mirror again. His injuries had started to fade but they were still obvious enough to ruin the effect. A tragedy because the white lingerie fitted him perfectly, pushed up his ass from the back and at the front, the lace cup with the middle slit left much to tease and that excited him. 

When he heard Gladioʼs heavy footfalls coming up the steps, Ignis hurried to the bed and threw himself there with his arms up, fixing his legs in a way that he hoped made him look vulnerable and pliant. 

Whatever it was he did, he knew it satisfied Gladio when he arrived in the room. His shirt was already off, giving Ignis an unobscured view of his rolling muscles and the slender cut of his waist, causing a pleasant shift inside his lace. 

Gladio hissed out a curse before he beamed, halfway between thrilled and shy while he pushed the door shut and punched the lock. Ignis couldnʼt keep his own smile behind bitten lips when he raked his wild hair up. “Damn, I knew it would look good on you but…” He whistled, hands falling to his jeans to work it free. “This is something else.” 

“I believe itʼs in the man who wears it.” 

“I donʼt doubt it,” Gladio agreed, with a voice trapped in his throat, low enough to give Ignisʼ libido another happy tug. 

He couldnʼt keep his eyes off the man when he pulled down his bottoms, underwear and all, and straightened up to give Ignis a full view of his nakedness. Hard muscles, a half-hard cock dangling low between his legs. 

“Youʼre gapinʼ at me like you want me to stick my dick somewhere in particular…” 

Ignis couldnʼt dissuade his blush despite the devilish look he put on. “If you would let me?” 

“Donʼt worry about me.” Those amber eyes didnʼt hide their lust when they traced his supine form, stopping at the lace. Ignis danced his hips just because. “I got plenty of ways to get hard.” 

Ignis might have moaned shyly at that. 

It brought Gladioʼs attention back up to him even as he sat by the bedside. He had another free grin on his face. “Can you wait a little longer? Iʼm just gonna get some condoms.” 

“Gladio.” Despite his play, Ignis pushed himself up to sit while the man kicked his jeans off the floor before he tripped. “Gladio! I…” 

Gladio stopped, halfway to his closet, whirling around to face him. 

Ignis bit his lips again when he considered his words. “I…donʼt mind risking it tonight,” he said. The meaning was clear and Gladio understood it, if his staring was anything to go by. “If you donʼt. I trust you. And after everything weʼve been through, I doubt this is whatʼs going to kill us.” The thought of which made him laugh a little. “I havenʼt even been playing with my toys since we met. Iʼm ready to commit.” 

“You sure thatʼs what you want?” Gladio sounded so gentle when he asked that question, a last chance to step back into familiarity. “I donʼt mind either way. I just wanna be with ya. I trust you, too. Hundred percent.” 

Ignis nodded. “Then Iʼm positive. I want you…I want as much of you as I can take. After what Iʼd been through, I realize life is simply too short for us to just…” He shrugged. “Survive it. If I were to live with you from now on, I want to live with you completely. Besides,” he offered a little smile to his boyfriend, “we havenʼt yet consummated our marriage.” 

It infected Gladio and brought out his own happy smile. “You know, Iʼd probably have a problem with just how fucking horny you are if I wasnʼt at the receiving end of it.” 

“I wouldnʼt be this horny if it werenʼt for you, Gladio. So as it appears, you are, in fact, partly to blame.” 

“Then I gotta take responsibility, yeah?” Ignis wondered if that was what convinced him to still complete the journey to his closet. Ignis tried not to feel quite so disappointed when he put himself back on the pillow. Caution was nice but all those times he put Gladioʼs hot dick in his mouth had him wondering what it would feel like to be full of it at the back without the latex to come between them. 

He was ready to accept his fate until he caught Gladio slinging a red silk tie over his back and then pushing his closet shut. When he turned back, he was tossing a bottle of lube in his hand, with no condoms in sight. Ignis swore his dick was going to pull itself out of its lace window with how giddy this made him. 

“Well, someoneʼs excited for me to…” Gladio sat himself on the bedside, leering closely to his boyfriend with his wrists ready for the taking. “…tie the knot.” 

“Terrible.” Despite that, they both snickered like silly boys until Gladio silenced them both with a kiss. 

Ignis took one last chance to capture him by his hair and the back of his neck, parting his lips for Gladioʼs tongue and mouth before he let his boyfriend take them each to cross them and bind their wrists with the necktie. 

“I donʼt know what Mom and Dad were thinkinʼ when they bought this bed but it probably wasnʼt for kinky stuff like this.” Gladio snickered while he secured the other end of the necktie around one of the carved leaves of the hardwood. “Pretty sure Jared didnʼt get me this necktie for that, too. Even when he knows I donʼt wear these things.” His hand slithered down to his cheek so Ignis could press his face to his palm. “You good?” 

Ignis nodded, completely spellbound. 

They kept their eyes on each other even when Gladioʼs other hand traveled down to his chest, paying a visit to one of his nipples for a tight pinch that caused Ignis to whimper, before it descended to his laced groin so he could squeeze it. Too tight to tease but not enough to hurt. 

“Thatʼs the face I like to see,” Gladio chuckled when Ignisʼ mouth fell open in a dramatic gape. “I havenʼt even touched myself yet and Iʼm already getting hard.” When he released his grip, Ignis began to grind himself onto his palm. Those brows quivered. “You’re a little hard yourself.” 

“Why donʼt you use your fingers to find out why?” Ignis couldnʼt keep his smirk off his face with that suggestion. 

Gladio wasted no time to soak his fingers in lube and pry him open from the back. A surprising and delightful advantage of wearing a jockstrap. Despite having prepped himself earlier for this, Ignis couldnʼt keep his startled moan to himself when those thick digits invaded his walls. 

“You’re soft!” Gladio laughed in surprise, grinning at his boyfriend who bit his lip and pulled his legs wider. “You touched yourself without me.” 

“ _For_ you,” Ignis grunted while his fingers moved in scissors. “I didnʼt want us to spend so long just to loosen me up. I did it in the shower.” 

“You really thought this through, didnʼt ya?” Gladio was grinning like a wolf. _His_ wolf. 

He shifted lower, opened his mouth for Ignis to see before he brought it to his dick and sucked the flesh through the lace and the window. Ignis groaned out a long song, pulling at his restraints. Gladio made a thorough job of it, kissing and tasting, even slipping his tongue through the opening to caress Ignisʼ flesh in some awkward way which made him sigh out loud as he thrusted himself to his mouth. “Fuck, I love this underwear.” 

“I know,” Ignis moaned, watching Gladio lap him up like melted ice cream. “I know, me too.” He hazarded a giggle. “Iʼm glad you got my size.” 

“You’re having fun, ainʼt ya?” Gladio laughed with him. He pulled out his fingers. “On your knees, husband.” 

Only Gladio would ever have the power to arouse him by words and voice alone. Any more of this and Ignis was worried his dick might rip through his lace, and he would be sorry for it because he was completely in love with it now. 

There was enough slack on the necktie to make it easy to turn and brace himself on his forearms. He looked over his shoulder to catch Gladio pushing his ass higher up. 

Caught the reflection of his boyfriend on the dressing mirror that faced the bed. Ignis gasped and jumped at the surprise. Gladio faced its way, as well, to catch him staring and greeted him with a winning smile. 

“If my parents ever found out the things weʼve been using their stuff for, theyʼd be rolling in their graves,” he chuckled, those handsome eyes falling again to the round shape of his ass. He hooked his finger onto one of the thigh bands and let it slip off for a sharp snap. 

Ignis cried with a start at the sting, stirring up dangerously in his lace cup while he offered up his ass to his boyfriend again. Was it possible to wear jockstraps forever? No need to strip to fuck and be fucked, comes with so many surprises. 

“More?” 

Ignis nodded, thankful he couldnʼt see his face in the mirror when he begged him, “Please?” 

Gladio pulled the other band farther for a meaner crack, sending Ignis forward with a jolt and a swallowed moan. If he could touch himself now, he was sure he would already be leaking, and that only made him want it more. 

From the mirror, he watched Gladio pull the first band down so he could lap up his blushing lines, kiss them for the pain before he let the garter snap back in place, doubling the intensity. 

It was enough to satisfy Ignis while Gladio drenched his cock with the lube and spread it with urgent strokes. “You sure about this?” A question he demonstrated by sweeping his wet glans up and down his entrance, catching him around the lip. 

Ignis tensed with excitement when he nodded and whispered again, “Please.” He knew it would be different from condom sex, in ways unimaginable to him yet. 

He just didnʼt realize it would be quite as electrifying when Gladio plunged in and filled him with nothing but pure, unadulterated fire. He was thick and wet, catching Ignis in places where normally he would have just slipped through with the latex and he swore, he felt him hum a little inside him. 

Which only made things so much worse for Ignisʼ obsession. Or better, perhaps, depending on oneʼs perspective. Ignis couldnʼt remember the noises they made when his knees trembled and faltered, leaving it entirely up to Gladio to carve his way in. Even those mighty hands were shaking while he grabbed his ass and squeezed and rocked it. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Ignis grunted between his teeth, trying to open himself up wider but unable to control his muscles with the pleasure of Gladioʼs swollen shaft deep inside him. “Fuck, Gladio, thatʼs so good! I feel like—” He moaned deeply while Gladio rolled his ass, like he was kneading his muscles to relax. “It feels like youʼre molding me exactly to your shape. Your head…” He squeezed his ass, catching Gladioʼs shudder with his hands on his hips. “Thatʼs your head!” 

“This is dangerous, Ignis,” Gladio snarled. “We should have done this sooner.” 

“Right?” Ignis surprised himself when they laughed despite their nerves. “Deeper, my husband. Let me take you all in.” 

“Fuck, should I have gotten that cockring, after all?” Gladio grunted while he parted his cheeks wider until Ignis yelped in pain. “I wanted to put it on you like a funny proposal but damn if it isnʼt me that needs it now.” He moved an inch deeper, pulled out until he was loose and sunk slowly again. 

Ignis sang out a long, desperate, “ _Oooh!_ ” 

“I wonʼt last long at this rate,” Gladio laughed again. “Donʼt divorce me if I come in 2 minutes.” 

“Maybe we _should_ just get married for real—” Ignis cut himself off with a whine when Gladio pushed again. He was watching his tight brows through his reflection on the mirror. “Iʼm starting to get depressed when I remember we are only pretending to be on our honeymoon.” 

“Didnʼt you hear what I said? I forgot the damn cockring!” 

“What do you need a cockring for!” 

“So I could say, ‘with this ring, I thee wed…!ʼ” 

For a minute there, or several, neither of them made an effort to help Gladio reach his goal, steeped hopelessly in laughter to make them do much else. Ignis could feel the strain of his position on his back and his arms but he would never complain of it. 

He roared instead, “Gladio, thatʼs passe!” For which his boyfriend cracked up loudly. 

“Shut up!” Gladio struck him with his palm on his ass. 

Ignis cried out suddenly, shifting uncomfortably with the tightness in his underwear. “Damn, that still turns me on…”

“Should I just hit you all night until you come?” 

“You’re already inside me, Gladio,” Ignis pointed out, turning to his reflection. “Finish the job.” 

“I go any deeper, I swear Iʼm gonna come inside you,” Gladio warned him through the same mirror.

“All the better for me, then,” Ignis said, smiling brightly with his permission. “I want to know what it feels like to be full and sticky with you.” 

Gladio shook his head as if in awe. “Last chance.” 

“I wonʼt repeat myself, after this:” Ignis breathed. “Deeper, if you please, my husband.” 

Gladio responded with a nod and a breathless smile as he grasped him tightly by the hips, pulled back and rammed himself right in. 

That brought out a shudder from deep within him and a yell from Ignisʼ chest as he squeezed him tight. It felt good—to be shouting to his heartʼs content, to be skin to skin with Gladio inside him. 

To meet his head again and again, pounded helplessly with nothing to do for it but to cry and moan, grab onto the tie. He wasnʼt as relentless as he knew him to be but he would trade tenfold of that familiarity for the feeling of his flesh scraping up his walls, the joy of being changed and reshaped for the man he called his husband. 

He cried out once, begging for his cock to be released. Gladio pulled it free through the lace slit finally and pumped it with Ignisʼ pre-cum while they forced their mouths together for a kiss with their tongues. Folded and tight like this, Gladio didnʼt last long. 

Couldnʼt even warn Ignis properly before he was shooting up against his prostate, the heat and spurt of his release causing Ignis to cry and buck his hips. It was thrilling, and frightening. He wanted more of it and tried to squeeze his quaking ass, begging him to come again. Gladio pulled out, leaving him wet and unfairly empty inside him. He almost wept. 

But when Ignis thought it was all over, he would be thrown to his back with knees forced up to his shoulders, leaving his weeping cock free for the taking. “Iʼm gonna fuck you again and again until my dick comes off,” was Gladioʼs last warning, a wicked smile on his lips and that glint on his amber eyes before he gobbled up Ignisʼ erection. 

He took him on his back, on his side with his fingers while he sucked his nipples, the first time Ignis ever got hard on them. They came together, in little episodes but never strong enough to give Ignis the climax that he needed. He begged for it once, even fighting against his restraints. 

His punishment was to be laid out on Gladioʼs lap like a brat and slapped on his ass repeatedly. The humiliation and the pain were nothing, of course, but it was being turned on without the hope of satisfaction in the end. Gladio had it all perfectly planned out. 

He knew how he wanted this to end since they started: Ignis bouncing on his dick while he slammed into him again and again, those thick arms hooked under each of his knees, watching himself get fucked like a doll in the mirror. 

“Wider, husband,” Gladio snarled to his ear before he sucked on its lobe. “Let me spread your lovely legs wider. I wanna watch your dick wagging like a dogʼs tail!” 

It was difficult—he felt so raw and heavy between his legs and he couldnʼt even touch himself. His arm was trapped across Gladioʼs thick shoulders, his other hand grasping at the sheets desperately for purchase. To his relief, it wasnʼt much longer until Gladio was pumping him full of semen, and with a loud cry, Ignis followed closely after, shooting his seeds all over the floor. 

Whatever he had left, Gladio jerked out of him after he shifted Ignis to sit on his lap to face him. Ignis did the same for him while they kissed, sloppy tongues and mouths missing their mark but never giving up. 

With his hand still soaked in Gladioʼs warm release, he embraced his boyfriend, and whispered to him so sweetly, “I love you.” 

Gladio kissed his hair, wrapping his own arms around his waist. “Do you still want the jockstrap?” It was obvious they were done for the night. 

Ignis nodded, then thought better of it and shook his head. 

So Gladio brought him back to their bed and slipped the bands off, tossing the lingerie somewhere before he pulled Ignis to cuddle with him. Ignis spent the rest of his waking minutes peppering whatever with his kisses. 

He didnʼt realize how heʼd fallen asleep.

—

When he woke up, Ignis only felt two things: the pain of having been bound and fucked so thoroughly last night, and the joy of waking up in the same bed heʼd been bound and fucked in. A stray thought wondered if this was what a real honeymoon felt like. He sighed in bliss, looking lovingly at his poor wrists, curling tighter on the sheets.

That dream ended when he heard an echo of Gladio crying, “Shit…fuck!” 

Ignis got up suddenly, called for his husband—his _boyfriend_ but received no reply. He stood up, snatching those trainers he borrowed off the floor and climbed down the stairwell, searching for him. 

When he caught Gladio wrestling with a frying pan, he knew he was in deep trouble. 

Ignis slipped hastily between him and the violent oil, switching the stove off before he took the spatula from Gladioʼs hand and left it on the plate next to them. “Lend me your shirt.” He didnʼt wait for Gladio to comply before he was pulling it up through his arms and letting it slide over him. 

“You switched off the stove.” 

“Your oil is too hot, you donʼt need to deep-fry sunny side eggs.” The one swimming in oil in the pan was a sorry map of toasted egg white and dried yolk, though, with a bit of blackness here and there. “Why donʼt you set the table? Allow me to take care of this.” 

“Set the table, he says,” Gladio grumbled then sighed deeply. “And here I was, thinkinʼ I could surprise you. I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed but I didnʼt realize it took an army to cook fried eggs.” 

Ignis smiled brightly for that, reaching up to smooth his pouting lips with his thumb before he pulled his chin down to kiss him better. And even then, Gladio wouldnʼt let him cook in peace yet.

With gentle hands, he took Ignisʼ and turned them to see the span of his bruises. 

Ignis chuckled at the discolored patches. “I remember the first time you took me, I was rather fond of these ones, too. They became my proof that what happened had been real. That we really had sex and Iʼd been bound for it.”

“You mentioned then that your ass hurt, too,” Gladio reminded him by way of leading to a question. 

Ignis nodded with a quiet giggle. He turned around and started to pull the drawers, looking for something to discard the ruined egg and the oil in. “I feel like a brand new virgin but with you as my first. At least now I know what it would have felt like.” It was a happy thought but Gladio pulled him from the back with a guilty hug, making him laugh. 

They had eggs, bacon, some buttered toasts and coffee. A little light after a night full of sex but they were the only ones Gladio had planned for. Ignis wouldnʼt complain, though. He wanted eggs and got eggs. He could just make something heavier for lunch later. 

“Hey…Ignis?” 

Heʼd been slicing up his toast to dip in the yolk when Gladio beckoned him. Ignisʼ eyes came up. He prompted him with a, “Hm?” 

Gladio straightened up, putting down his own knife and fork. “Whatsay we leave Midgar?” 

Ignisʼ eyes widened. “Iʼm sorry?” 

“Leave the city, leave it all behind,” Gladio went on more spiritedly. “I wanna live with you but I donʼt want us to live in a city where anyone could just,” he snapped his fingers, “drop the plate in a snap.” 

“But where are we going?” Ignis had never been out of Midgar all his life. 

“Anywhere!” Gladio laughed. “We could go to Cosmo Canyon and stay with Iris…or, or we could move to Kalm just northeast of here. Start a new life there, get new jobs, get married for real…no plates, no sun lamps, no Shinra…what do you say?” What did he say… 

Ignis didnʼt know. His whole life, heʼd known nothing but Midgar…and yet there was nothing tying him down to it. Not anymore. No family, no neighbors. They could leave tomorrow and he might even be better off with it. 

He shook his head. “I donʼt know where I want to go, Gladio. But wherever it is, I want it to be with you. I donʼt care where.” 

“Yeah?” Gladio started to laugh, the promise of Ignisʼ own dreams dancing in the stars of his eyes, the warmth of his cheeks. “Well, okay…” Ignis joined him, then. “Yeah—okay, letʼs do it!”


	18. Chapter 18

What was it they said? The best-laid plans often went awry. 

Not a proverb he should be thinking about while he was composing an email to his boss… _former_ boss or rather, _soon_ -to-be former boss but it fit the mood, he supposed. After four years of employment, of climbing up the steep ladder and being promised a promotion while he was at it, it was time for him to write a resignation letter. 

It was harder than he thought. It wasnʼt just that he didnʼt know what to say, after all. This was his life until recently. Once upon a time, it had been his dream, as well. Had filled him with such power and hope and ambitions whenever he gazed upon the imposing structure as an orphan who was fresh out of high school. Life used to be so much simpler and brighter, then. 

Well, it was still bright now. But his dreams had changed and so had Midgar. The one he knew had disappeared in rubble and smoke, and he never belonged to the topside and its complicated problems. If not for the man who saved his life, he wouldnʼt even be here. 

“Ready to go?” 

Ignis snapped upwards to the voice, watched Gladio descend the stairwell with a full gym bag in each his hands. While the man had finished packing up, he took to the kitchen with his boyfriendʼs laptop and started to type a draft of his resignation notice. 

He folded it shut and slipped it into its backpack which they would bring with them, as well. “Iʼd like to borrow this again once we get to Kalm. Will that be fine?” 

“Sure. Still not done with your email? Youʼve been working on that since breakfast.” And theyʼd just finished lunch. 

“I still canʼt decide on how much or how little I want to make it personal,” Ignis explained, zipping the bag shut. “A part of me wants to, but the other part would never let me forget that Shinra betrayed us.” After which, he patted himself down to ensure that he had everything he needed: his phone, his wallet, his daggers, his new silver and black gloves in their belt pocket… 

Everything on him was new: his shirt with the animal print pattern, his dark jeans and leather shoes, all courtesy of his boyfriend and his boyfriendʼs fatherʼs money. A fitting ensemble, it would seem, for his new life. 

He carried the bag to Gladio who set it down next to their bags. 

Afterwhich, he wrapped his hands loosely along Ignisʼ sides and kissed his lips, both of them chasing each other lazily after every parting. “Well, you donʼt owe him a speech…” 

“Iʼve worked with him for 4 years, Gladio,” Ignis reminded him, running his thumb along his freshly trimmed beard. Even the sides of his hair were still sharp from the razor. “A part of me still thinks I know what sort of man he is.” 

“Maybe I could help you clear your mind, then. Guess what else I packed.” The excited smirk was all Ignis needed to learn what it was. 

He sighed. “You packed the lacey jockstrap, I see.” Gladioʼs laughter and kiss confirmed his suspicions. “Must you really? Weʼll only be gone for a few days! Think about our future neighbors.” 

“Least weʼll find out if we can live in that place after this trip.” Gladio grinned. “‘sides, I canʼt wait five days to have sex with you again.” 

“You wound me,” Ignis muttered with a dramatic sulk. “As if I canʼt deliver without a sexy underwear.” 

“Guess I found me my kink,” Gladio chuckled, leaning his forehead to Ignisʼ. “One day, Iʼm gonna get rid of all your clothes and replace it all with tight lingerie.” 

“Then I suppose Iʼll just have to steal your clothes again, hm?” Ignis smirked triumphantly at that rebuttal. 

Even when Gladio called for a draw when he kissed him again and Ignis lingered on his lips. They might not have parted if it werenʼt for the musical doorbell, signifying the arrival of a much-awaited visitor. 

“Thatʼs Jared.” Gladio stepped past their embrace for the bags around their feet. “Can you get the door?”

Ignis wove his way around the living room until he could be free to march for it. In the brief silence, the shattering window was loud, pulling him to catch two silver eggs clattering to the floor. 

“Ignis!” 

He hadnʼt had time to find out what they were before Gladio was throwing them both to the floor. Where he expected a massive explosion, though, he only caught the little pops of light and then the hiss of—

_Gas!_ The air had clouded over in no time. Ignis pressed his hand on his nose and mouth as they clambered to get up. With three booming strikes, their door burst open. 

Ignis couldnʼt count how many there were of their masked visitors, all dressed in black and ready to fight. Gladio was up on his feet before any of them could come close and was throwing his fists at their necks and stomachs. He was fighting smartly. 

It made no sense that he should be overpowered easily—a man of his size and tenacity. But it seemed as if he hadnʼt even done a number on them when they grabbed him by his arms and forced him to his knees. Someone jabbed a device through his neck and he cried in echoes, jolting from the shock. 

“Gladio!” Everything sounded so far away. Had he really called his name? Ignis started to run to him but somehow ended up on the floor, hands on his wrists, his back and his shoulders. _Gladio…!_

They stunned him for too long, until even Gladio had to fall back and faint. Ignis struggled against his captors but he couldnʼt even move his arms anymore. At this state, there was nothing he could do but to watch them lift him away. He didnʼt know where, though. 

One of those masked men had stepped in in front of him. “Mr. Ferro wants to see you.” Ferro… 

So the bastard was still alive…

—

Rust. The leavings of pests. Mold and the stench of urine.

Had he never left the slums, after all? It seemed impossible with everything else that he remembered but his head felt heavy and he couldnʼt move his arms. 

_One at a time,_ Ignis told himself, putting his nerves under control even before they got out of hand. _One at a time._ He could still breathe and think, which meant he was still alive. No pain except for the sluggish feeling, which meant that he wasnʼt injured. He could move his toes in his shoes, his fingers behind him. Good, still good. Ignis tried to speak, then, as he opened his eyes. 

“I see the little slutʼs finally awake.” That voice. 

He was sitting across Ignis, leg over his knee, that fond smile still on his face but everything else about him had changed. The first thing he noticed was his pallor, and then his bloodshot eyes, the bruise on his lips, the hair around his jaw…his worn suit sagging from his shoulders. 

Someone had put Ferro through hell, but the man had survived it. Had been allowed to survive it? There was something manic about his eyes, his paper-thin smile. 

An animal pushed to the corner. That was what Ignis saw in front of him now. Whatever had happened to him had made him unhinged and now, he was a being bent only for revenge. 

“I must say, that little show you and your lover did was more impressive than I gave it credit for,” Ferro chuckled. “What was his name? Gladiolus…Amicitia, was it?” So he knew who he was now. 

“How did you know?” Ignis snarled. He was still trying to clear the fog in his head but the danger had done much work for it. He tested his wrists again. Cold and trapped. Heʼd been cuffed to the back of his chair. He grasped at the metal of his seat and felt the coarse surface under his thumb, dusting the grains off his fingers. 

“Why you told me yourselves, didnʼt you? Did you really think I would stay in the dark for long?” It had been days since the entrapment operation and so many things had happened after. Ferro could have found out on that very night or in the time in-between. 

Not that it mattered. Ignis was only buying time while he took stock of the situation he was in. He looked around the room. It was empty and dim. A glorified box made of concrete with a single light overhead and then beside him, a glass window looking out to darkness over a full dashboard of switches and buttons. Where _was_ he? 

“Ah, looking for this?” 

Ignis whipped to Ferro who smiled as he dangled his belt of daggers and smaller pouches. Indeed. 

The first difficulty. Ignis put on another snarl. “Whereʼs Gladio?” 

“You’re too predictable,” Ferro cackled, rising up to his feet. He limped towards Ignis, showing favor to his right leg. “You wouldnʼt even ask what became of your precious Prompto and that insipid mayorʼs grandson.” Noct. He found out about them. 

_Stay calm,_ Ignis warned himself. _They have guards, he is only saying this to rile you up!_

“Did you hurt them?” Ignis let a little fear slip through his voice, his breath. 

The look and sound of it made Ferro grin brighter. He stopped by the controls. “What would you like to find out first?” A tease. 

How should he do this? Of the three of them, Gladio was the one he was sure to be in danger. His answer would also give Ferro the measure of him. That is, the kind of measure Ignis wanted him to see. 

“Whereʼs Gladio?” Ignis asked again, still shaking. Gladio was the expected response, it would also give him a better gauge of their circumstances. 

Ferro cackled for it. Both of them had gotten each other where they wanted them both. “Iʼm afraid he hasnʼt got long.” From the dashboard, he pressed a button. 

The darkness from the window was dispersed by lights switching on one after another. As it turned out, he was trapped in the control room of an even bigger box surrounded by steel plates, all discolored and dented with use and age. 

Gladio was down there, whipping upwards and coming up to his feet. His own wrists were cuffed at the front and his shirt was missing. 

“Before you ask, you are in an underground facility of the Advanced Weaponry Division,” Ferro explained, flipping two other switches. “Though it has been ages since anyoneʼs minded this place. But that makes it perfect for our use, doesnʼt it?” 

Down in the massive room, two doors opened. Gladio jumped back when a pair of Wrath Hounds charged through, and might have already rent his skin on sight if it werenʼt for the keepers of their leashes, both of whom came in with a machine gun pointed to the air. And then lastly, a large man dragging his sword on the floor. His executioner. 

“Isnʼt this exciting?!” Ferro whooped, callous to Ignisʼ heart pounding in his throat, pulling at his lungs so that he couldnʼt breathe. “Itʼs almost like the underground arena, isnʼt it?” Ignis was wrong, _this_ was the first difficulty, the first danger! 

No matter what he did, he would have to stop this first and foremost. _Think, Ignis, think!_

“Wait, donʼt do this.” He snapped wide eyes towards the grinning Ferro. “Please donʼt do this!! I, Iʼll do anything for you. Iʼll be your whore! Iʼll let you rape me again and again just please,” he pulled his shoulders to sag, “please donʼt kill him!!” Time was of the essence. 

“ _Ha!_ ” Ferro cackled. There was a mad energy about him when he feasted those wild eyes on Ignisʼ contrite form. He burst out with another crazed laughter, howling to fill the whole room with his amusement. “And you _still_ think I still want you?” 

Ignis tensed his legs when Ferro started to approach. He counted his steps. 

“No,” Ferro hiccuped with glee, “no, I told you, didnʼt I? If you disobeyed me, I would make you fuck your loverʼs corpse!” He was back on his pedestal. His distasteful threats, his untouchable power. “And then Iʼll sell you to my friends. And watch them teach your cunt a lesson!” Unfortunately for him, he was old and old-fashioned. 

And Ignis was younger and smarter than him. 

With three steps to spare, Ignis bolstered himself to his feet and charged forth to smash his shoulder against Ferroʼs middle. The distance and the strength made for a perfect impact, sending Ferro back to his seat where he crashed and rolled to the floor like a puppet. 

It gave Ignis the time he needed to smash his chair against the dashboard until he could break free from the rusted metal. From there, all he needed to do was to hop and swing his arms forward. 

And then he was on the controls, seeking out those errant switches from earlier to flip all of them. The response was instantaneous; from below him, several doors opened up along each side of the wall where Gladio had flung a hound like a bag of meat. He jammed his finger on the mic button and roared to him, “ _Gladio!!_ ” 

Gladio whipped to the window and raised his thumb. All that fighting had snapped his chains free. Gunfire erupted along his feet. He escaped. 

Time for him to go that way himself. What was the next in his agenda? Find Noct and Prompto, find a way out of there, get out of Midgar. 

Ferro was still moaning and whimpering on the floor when Ignis snatched his daggers from under him and cut himself loose by the links. Then he pressed the same blade on the meat of Ferroʼs right knee and carved as deeply as he could, barely missing Ferroʼs better leg when it kicked out as he howled. 

“I thought you appreciated the finer points of pain and punishment?” Ignis snarled. “You disgusting excuse of a creature!” He wiped his blade and his hands on his trousers. 

And then he took off, slipping the belt around him.

—

Ignis had just put on his fighting gloves when the first of their takers had come through the hallway to launch an attack. With the space of the corridor and the old crates and containers parked in several corners and alcoves, it was a little difficult to wind his way in and out of their pack.

The solution to his problems, then, was magic—destructive and indiscriminate, it took care of their numbers as well as any stragglers who might try and take him down. The effects gave him ample time to deal with the survivors and then escape. 

If only they were a lot less feisty than they were worth. Ignis had just cleared whatever floor he was in but he was already crashing into the lift that would take him to the lower levels. With no potion to care for his injuries, no ether to refresh his mental capacity, he would have to subsist on his own endurance. 

The doors rattled open. He jumped out of the cylinder, into another similar corridor that seemed only a little brighter than the one he escaped. Everything was quiet… 

And then he heard the echo of gunfire, sputtering in parts. 

“Gladio,” he hissed and charged forth. 

Ignis chased after the sounds, drawing steadily closer to the source until he heard even the slam of steel and Gladioʼs familiar roar. 

He twisted down the next corner, dashed towards one of the men with the machine gun until he was close enough to spin and throw his dagger to his head. 

The man faltered like a doll. Ignis slid to his corpse to pull out his blade—

The other gunman had turned in shock and aimed his muzzle at Ignis. 

He flipped back to the previous hallway in time before the rain of bullets tore through him. Ignis flexed his fingers over his grips, back pressed to the wall while the barrage persisted. “Gladio!!” 

“I hear ya!” Gladio sounded close. “Gimme a minute!” 

Ignis waited for the shooting to end, showed his face for half a beat then pulled back when it resumed. At least the gunner was approaching him steadily. That would put him in the right distance to—

The man gurgled out a noise, then the sound of his body hitting the ground heavily replaced it. 

Ignis turned again to see him bleeding out on the floor, Gladioʼs sword pierced through him like a gravestone. As for the swordsman himself, he appeared just then in a run, stopping to pull up his sword and then loot the corpse. 

And then finally, he joined Ignis in the adjacent corridor where Ignis proceeded to kiss him with his mouth and ask him, “Did they hurt you?”

Gladio pressed one of the potions to his palm. “Not before I hurt them. Thereʼs no room to swing a damn sword in this place.” 

“Not a sword bigger than you at any rate.” Ignis wiped his lips after finishing half the bottle, catching his breath. “Come, we better keep moving.” 

“‘sit true what I heard?” Gladio discarded the bottle heʼd finished on the floor so Ignis did the same. They hurried back to the lift. “This is Ferro again?” 

“Heʼs either found new friends, a surprising wellspring of loyalty or a second chance to prove himself,” Ignis sighed. “Heʼs still mostly the same though a little too worse for wear. He knows who you are, by the way.” 

“Oh. So did you kill ‘im?” Gladio hopped on the round elevator after his boyfriend. 

“I didnʼt bother.” Ignis punched the button heading up. “Death would be too merciful for him. I did make sure he wouldnʼt get up on his own.” 

Gladio shrugged. “Good enough.” 

“We need to look for Noct and Prompto.” 

Gladio whirled to him. “Theyʼre here?!” 

Ignis nodded. “Or they might be. Ferro found out about their involvement and Noctʼs relationship with the mayor.” 

Gladio cursed between his teeth. “And how the hell are we gonna find out for sure?” The answer became obvious as soon as he asked that question. 

“The security room,” Ignis voiced out. 

“Betcha itʼll be at the top.” Gladio pressed the number for that. 

It had been a peaceful ride, at the very least, though the silence was only giving Ignis a heightened sense of the tension. When the doors split open, he and Gladio marched out on the same count. 

Gladio was the faster between them when he grabbed him by the elbow and pulled them both into another hallway. A group of five men had spotted them upon their entrance and welcomed them with the heat of their guns. 

“Fuck these bastards,” Gladio growled. “This oneʼs a dead end, too.” 

Ignis turned to his left to see Gladioʼs meaning. There wasnʼt even anything remotely interesting about the tower of crates scaling up the wall. 

“Leave it to me,” he said, reaching into his _Fire_ materia, inching closer to the opening until the gunfire stopped. Then he flipped himself forward and pitched a _Fira_ at their captors. 

The whole corridor glowed and burst red, the roar of the spell overpowering the screams of its victims until all Ignis heard were their dying pleas. 

He stood for a moment to bear the twisting pain in his head. Gladio raced him to the first step, grabbing him by both elbows to charge them both through the flames licking up the walls. There was a room up ahead, something that could convincingly look like a room for cameras. 

“There they are!” 

Except, of course, nothing was quite so simple these days. 

“Get behind me.” Gladio swung down his sword as a shield, putting himself between Ignis and the three gunmen. A streak of light passed in the middle of the two of them. 

Somehow, something had gotten stuck in the middle gunnerʼs chest afterwards. A complicated sword by the looks of it. 

A flash of blue light and then another person was there, in a long black jacket and a pair of black trousers that ended around his calves. He had his hand around the hilt of the blade and then he was flipping backwards to kick his sword free and land on his knees. 

Someone shoved Ignis to the wall with a bundle of fabrics, hopping over Gladioʼs lowered blade. 

“Prompto!” 

The blond man secured a spot over Noctʼs back and began firing away at their attackers with a single gun. When the last man had fallen to the ground, he hopped off his best friendʼs back and hauled him up to his feet. 

“Nothing to it!” Noct whooped. They bumped their fists for a job well done. 

“Noct, Prompto!” Ignis started for them with Gladio in tow. 

“Ignis, Gladio!” Prompto was hopping where he stood as he waved at them. He, too, was all in black—his vest, his shirt, the bandana around his tattoo, everything except for his animal print trousers. 

“Hey, you two okay?” Gladio asked, stopping to cross his arms with both of their friends. “Why are you both dressed in black?” 

“‘cause itʼs a covert rescue mission!” Prompto announced energetically. 

“Yeah, letʼs just say we kinda had time to find out where they were keeping you guys.” Noct inspected his sword before he sheathed it back to his side. It was custom-made, with a black strip in the middle and an assemblage of machine stuff around the grip. “Though we got a little lost on our way here but at least made it on time.” 

“They tried to take us from the house!” The shock still hadnʼt worn off Prompto. “So we hid in the panic room while the guards fought it out upstairs and then Noctʼs dad told us to leave so we packed up and took the car!” 

“Good thing Prompto and I decided to check in on you guys,” Noct continued after him, hand on his waist. “When we saw your place, we figured we had to bail you out. Your bags are in the Regalia. Where were you guys thinking of going?” 

“Ironically, itʼs a place called Kalm,” Ignis answered. The stuff that Prompto shoved at him, they were Gladioʼs leather jacket and his blazer, last seen slumped over the couch. He handed the former to his boyfriend so he could shrug his one on. “We were expecting Gladioʼs attendant to come fetch us but received a nasty surprise instead.” 

“Huh. Guess you gave them a nasty surprise, too.” 

Ignis shared Noctʼs smirk. “You can be sure of it.” 

“Well,” Gladio huffed, pulling at his jacket which he left open, “no use hanginʼ around here so letʼs beat it.”

—

“So whereʼs Kalm?” Prompto asked as soon as they made it back in the lift after a quick skirmish with a few persistent guards.

“Just northeast of here,” Gladio answered him while Noct punched the button for the ground floor. “Why, you wanna come with?” 

For that, Prompto turned to his best friend. “Noct, what do you think?” 

Noct shrugged. “Well, itʼs a lot closer than the Chocobo Farm.” 

“So when your father told you to go…” Ignis passed the cue to Noct. 

“Well…” Noct crossed his arms. “He probably just meant for us to hide somewhere for the time being, but then he also said this place wasnʼt safe anymore. Anyway, so Prompto and I packed up and left.” 

“In that case, we donʼt mind you guys cominʼ along with us.” Gladio rolled his shoulders back. “Kinda need a ride, anyway.” 

“All right, cheaper hotel!!” Prompto pumped his fists up. 

“Nice, Gladio!” Noct slapped his hand to Gladioʼs in a low-five. “We really appreciate it.” 

Gladio nodded to him with a chummy smirk. “Donʼt mention it, Prince.” 

“And then letʼs all go to the Chocobo Farm!” 

“One step at a time, Prompto,” Ignis chuckled, pushing his glasses back. The doors were clattering open. “First, weʼll need to get out of here.” 

They came out on the ground floor of what turned out to be an abandoned Shinra warehouse in upper Sector 1. By then, it was already dark and quiet. 

“Thereʼs the Regalia!” Prompto pointed to a sleek black car parked across the road, under the light of a street lamp. To get to the compound, they had to cut through the wire fence that surrounded the concrete square and sneak in from the back of the old three-sided building. 

But this time, they were coming through the front doors. “Ignis, can you take the wheel?” Noct tossed him the key. 

Ignis snatched it off the air. “Leave it to me.” He hurried on ahead of them. 

“Noct, you go on with him,” Gladio said. “Iʼll take up the rear—”

“Noct!!” 

Ignis whirled around, searching wildly for Noct. Something had come out from the shadows with an enraged roar and grabbed him with an arm around his neck. Noct yelped out in surprise as Ignis cried for him and hurried back—

“ _Nobody move!!_ ”

If Ignis thought he was unhinged earlier, he should look at him now, he realized. 

Ferro had his friend in the mercy of a gun and his questionable mental state. How he managed to hobble all the way down there with a ruined leg was beyond Ignis but he wouldnʼt put it past him to be high on those SOLDIER-enhancing drugs right now. A look down on his injured leg told him that the blood had stopped. What was it? Healing materia? An overdose of potion? 

He started to laugh, first a cackle and then a shrill giggle that filled the quiet air. Noct cursed as he tried to twist away into freedom but was mostly held perfectly in place. “Not so brave now, are we?” Ferro sneered at them. “You think you can keep winning? You think I will lose?!” 

“ _Noct!!_ ” 

“Prompto, donʼt move.” Ignis slashed his arm out to stop him. He knew he was one breath away from pulling out one of the guns holstered to his sides but therein laid the danger. One twitch of movement, if they so much as sneezed, it could be the last of one of them. 

Ferro flashed him a wild smile. “No more plans, Mr. Scientia? No more tricks up your sleeves? You thought youʼre so smart, huh? You think you can get away with everything?!” 

“Sir, there is absolutely no need for this—!” 

“ _Youʼre never leaving here alive!_ ” Ferro screeched at them. “Not you, you filthy slut. Not even you…” He turned to Prompto, his lips twisting into ugly shapes at his first failure. “You should have just come to me when you had the chance,” he hissed. “Now you have to die with them!” 

“Speak for yourself, you ugly bastard,” Noct growled, shaking again, a tinge of blue light clinging to his skin. Another startled cry came through him when the muzzle of Ferroʼs gun met his ear. 

“Hey, hey, hey!!” Gladio came in the picture, then, sliding into position, hands up. “Look at me. Eyes on _me_ , bastard!” Until then, Ferroʼs attention had been shifting between Ignis and Prompto. 

Now they were on him—and him alone. Gladio puffed out his chest and moved a step closer to Ferro who shifted antsily on his feet. “You think killing himʼs gonna be enough to satisfy ya? No…” He shook his head. “Not when Iʼm the one you want. Iʼm the guy who just canʼt fucking die, right?” 

Behind him, Ignis signalled for Prompto to move left. It was important for him to get a clear shot of the man. As for him, he slipped his daggers from his sheaths and made slowly for Ferroʼs right, where Gladio had left his sword to stand on the ground. 

Ferro seethed at him, choking Noct tighter. The way he waved his gun, it was like he was reminding Gladio of the power that he carried. “Youʼll die with the rest of them.” 

“Thatʼs right.” Gladio stepped closer again. “Weʼll all die here before the end of the night. You, me, them.” He tossed his hands up. “So why not start with me, huh? Letʼs get this party started with the big fish.” 

“No.” Ferro shook his head, baring his teeth at Gladio. “No, Iʼll make you watch me slaughter them. Thatʼs what you deserve. Iʼll make you remember what it feels like to lose the people you love again!” he roared. 

“Youʼre really gonna waste three bullets just to prove a point?!” Gladio barked out, voice rippling across the discreet neighborhood. He was one foot closer again. “You wonder why I never could die but itʼs all because ya canʼt commit! Why donʼt you shoot me right here and now, Ferro?” He smacked his fists to his chest. “Shoot me!” 

“Iʼll shoot you,” Ferro growled at him. “Iʼll shoot you, Iʼll kill you!” 

“Point that gun at me and fucking shoot me!”

“ _Iʼll fucking kill you right now!!_ ” Everything happened in that same moment—Ferro swinging the gun at Gladio, Noct phasing through his grip, Prompto screaming as he pulled out his own gun while Gladio grabbed Ferro by the wrist and pushed it upwards and Ignis caught Noct and twisted them both away from the gunshot—

A crack echoed in the quiet, and then a body fell to the ground. Ignis turned to look. 

Ferro was dead, bleeding through a cavity on his left forehead where Prompto had shot him. His gun laid uselessly in his right hand on the concrete. 

Noct pushed himself free from Ignis so he could stumble to the stunned Prompto landing on his knees. Ignis sought out Gladio and caught him kicking the gun away from the dead man before he hurried towards Ignis. 

“You okay?” he croaked, holding Ignis by his biceps. Ignis nodded. “We gotta get outta here. Thereʼs no way they didnʼt hear that. Itʼll just be a matter of time until Public Security gets here.” 

“Right,” Ignis breathed. Ferro was dead, for better or for worse, but they werenʼt home free yet. “Get your sword. Cut us a way through.” 

“Got it.” Gladio grabbed his sword, then, and hurried off. 

Ignis brought himself to the stunned Promptoʼs side and laid a careful hand on his shoulder. “Prompto? We need to go. Shinra will be here any minute so weʼll need to be gone before that happens.” 

“Cʼmon, Prompto, letʼs get outta here,” Noct tried with Ignis, taking Prompto by the fold of his elbow for a firm tug. That brought the younger manʼs attention to his best friend, at least. 

And then he was climbing up to his feet and they were running to the car where Gladio waited, waving his arms to them.

—

“S, so where are we going?!”

“The city checkpoint,” Ignis answered easily, teasing the engine into a smooth start and then twisting them out of the street. He never looked back on Ferroʼs corpse. “Prompto, can you find us the closest expressway?” 

“Mm, got it!” Prompto pulled out his phone and started tapping for the map. By Ignisʼ best guess, they would be out of that place in about an hourʼs time. 

Of course, that didnʼt include any violent escorts that might have it in their best interests to cause trouble. 

“Hey, we got company!!” 

It hadnʼt even been 20 minutes since they rolled out of the compound and merged into the main traffic. But true enough, when Ignis glanced at his rear-view mirror following Gladioʼs announcement, there were several motorcycle riders suspiciously arranged in a specific formation behind them. 

Followed by what may or may not have been a bullet bouncing off the carʼs polished metal hide, causing them all to start when Ignis nearly lost control of the wheel and sent them straight onto the concrete wall. 

He cursed, fixing his glasses, staring at the empty road up ahead. Bullets, they were actually _shooting at them_ even out there! He pressed his foot on the gas. 

“Hey, dammit, not my dadʼs car!!” Noct roared at their pursuers, twisting to find them. “Dammit, theyʼre gonna chase us down until we run out of roads.” 

“What are we going to do?!” Prompto shrieked. 

“We need to race them,” Ignis switched the gear between them, pushing the engine to its limits. 

“What the hell kinda friends did that bastard make, anyway?!” 

“I believe weʼre being chased down less out of loyalty and more out of survival this time,” Ignis mused, glancing at his mirror as a way of facing Gladio. “If we can do this to their friend, thereʼs no saying what we can do to them.” 

Noct tutted. “Theyʼre not gonna let us off easily. Ignis, top down.” 

“Got it.” Ignis flipped the switch. 

“Noct?!” Despite Promptoʼs surprise, the wind rushing in through their splitting roof had covered much of his exclamation. He got up on his knees, facing towards him. 

“Iʼm gonna cut them loose!” Something in the air whipped around itself, leaving Prompto to cry for his best friend and Gladio to jump in his shock. The next time Ignis saw Noct, it was through his rear-view mirror: that machine sword had landed with a reckoning in one of the bikes. Noct reappeared in blue to cut it loose, pitch it through the air and disappeared again. The first bike faltered and skidded dangerously on the ground, tripping the ones behind it. 

“I havenʼt known that guy for long but heʼs got guts,” Gladio whistled. “Think heʼll be able to take care of them all?” 

“Uh…” Prompto hesitated. “Ah— _AHHH_ , not these ones!!” He was pointing to the right of Ignis. 

Ignis glanced to see a lesser highway merging into them, carrying its own force of riders and shooters. He hissed out a curse and careened farther from them just as the first bullets landed on their tail. 

“Donʼt let them hit the tires!” he barked to his two other passengers. 

“Guess itʼs just you and me now.” That was Gladio. “Prompto, get those guns out and put ‘em to good use!” 

“R, roger that!!” They were a whole army by themselves now, and the task was well cut-out for them. 

They traded bullets when they could, Prompto diving in and out of their shield made out of Gladioʼs sword which he would lash out with his impressive reach if anyone came too close. Ignis focused himself on his driving, trying to drown out the angry bullets and the noisy pings on steel. When he caught an exit swooping down to the main road, he twisted themselves straight into it, sending a pair of motorcycles crashing onto the barrier at his lack of proper signaling. 

“Ignis, give us a warning!” Gladio barked. Ignis figured the suddenness must have caused them to upset their balance. 

“My apologies but at least youʼre both still here.” 

“But Noc—” 

Prompto had barely gotten his demand through when the man in question rematerialized behind them in a flash of blue. 

“Noct!!” Of the three of them who exclaimed, Gladio was the loudest. “You okay?” He shifted closer to them. While their pursuers were silenced, Ignis hazarded a glance over his shoulder. 

Noct was wincing in his seat, teeth gritted in pain. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Just need some brain juice. This is what I hate about this yellow materia.” 

“Iʼll get it!” Prompto landed on his seat and reached under it. 

“Hey, that thing sounds broken,” Gladio said to him. 

“Ya think?” Noct hissed. He took the open flask from Prompto. “Guess this is what they mean by _failed prototype_.” He downed the ether in one pull. “By the way, what are we doing down here?” 

“Losing our tail,” Ignis replied, turning down into a tunnel. “Weʼll come up to a different exit and wind our way back to the checkpoint. I may need you all to sweep up the front when we cross that bridge.” 

“Sure, weʼll burn it down!” Prompto chirruped. 

“You’re the boss, Mr. Strategist,” Gladio followed. 

They came out into another minor road and raced down a quiet residential street with absolutely zero regard as to the peace of those enjoying a quiet night. Through there, they found a service road that led them straight back up into the expressway. 

“Here, left here!” Prompto announced. Ignis made it clear to him that the route theyʼd taken would put them at the wrong side of the road. 

So when he twisted to his instructions, what welcomed them was a party of their pursuers pacing along the empty road with their phones in their hands. No one could blame him for pressing on the gas and raising the gear again in his excitement. 

They fell back with muffled wails from behind their helmets, letting the Regalia through without so much as an argument. 

“Prompto!” Noct piped up. “Wanna try that new materia you just got?” 

Prompto seemed to jump to his knees at the idea. With a loud grunt, he flung the spell to their enemies with a wild slash of his arm. 

Ignis saw the effect from the rear-view mirror: a crystal of ice manifesting into existence from cold air which seemed to spit shards at anyone that dared to touch or cross it. 

That took care of their tail for the time being. Ignis couldnʼt keep his satisfied smirk off his face while everyone hooted and Noct and Prompto met in a sharp high five. 

Following the curve put them right back under the radar, though the line of their pursuers had decidedly thinned out. A single sweep of Noctʼs warping and swordplay and a little help from Promptoʼs firepower was all it took to put them sideways and spinning on the ground. 

Gladio howled in victory when Noct returned to them, catching him in a loud high five. “The prince of pain!” 

“What can I say?” 

“Think thatʼs the last of ‘em?!” Prompto was on his knees again, wriggling left and right in case the night had hidden more motorcycles away. 

“I wouldnʼt bet on it,” Ignis replied evenly despite the unhappy news he bore. “Weʼre coming up to the exit and then past that is the checkpoint. Thereʼs only one way for us to go from here so I wonʼt be surprised if theyʼd shifted their plan of attack from _chase_ to _contain_.” 

“So whatʼre we gonna go, Mr. Strategist?” Gladio buoyed himself to stand, hanging onto the front seats for balance. “Run ‘em over and hope for the best?” 

“You should know by now that ‘hope for the bestʼ is not how I work,” Ignis said to him, adjusting his glasses. “Noct, do you have a _Fire_ materia with you?” 

That question came into play soon enough, following a couple more stragglers which Gladio put an end to with his wide sweeps. “There!” Prompto cried out, darting his finger forward. From a distance, Ignis could already make out a thick line of men aiming their machine guns and pistols at them. The best case scenario was for them to run them over, assuming they could survive the hail of bullets and whatnot they were ready to dispose on them. 

Alternatively, they could just deal with them now. 

“Noct, now! Aim for the middle!” Ignis barked. 

From the mirror, he could see Noct getting up to his feet. Another second and the night would be bursting hot and red, wild screaming rising with the smoke billowing in the air in dramatic swirls. 

“Here we go!!” Ignis flipped the roof switch and smashed his foot on the pedal. The heat of the fire spell on his cheek was the first thing he felt as they hurried faster, hands tightening around the leather grip of the wheel. The smell of burnt everything followed closely, right at his nose, and yet the roof and the windows were still open. He gritted his teeth. They wouldnʼt make it. 

They would burn with the rest of them—

Prompto ripped himself open with the maddest scream Ignis had ever heard his whole life. “ _We did it!_ ” he cried himself hoarse, arms up, fists on the cushioned ceiling. “ _We did iiit!!_ ” 

“You pulled us through, Ignis!” Gladio howled. 

“Good job!” Noct slapped him on his biceps. 

Ignis smiled at them from the corner of his lips. “Did you expect any less from me?” As smoothly as if he hadnʼt lost his faith in himself while they were charging through the flames. Even now, his fingers were shaking, but they were through. 

They were home free.

—

After that harrowing drive along the expressway, getting through the city checkpoint was a breeze. The night duty only had room for two patrolmen, and between Ignis and Noct, they were an easy task.

And then, it was just a matter of rolling out of Midgar. 

The roads were bumpier and narrower out there, but everything else was completely bigger and fresher than the tiny world Ignis had been confined in his whole life. Even the hard ground seemed so limitless. And overhead, the deep purple skies were so vast and far beyond…was there really green grass like they showed on the TV when he was a kid? Green trees heavy with fruits? 

They found an outpost about an hourʼs drive away from Midgar where they agreed to stop to catch their breaths, finally get rid of their cuffs. They bought some food and some water from the convenience store while they had the car checked for repairs and gas, after which Ignis brought over some papers and a pen to their table. 

“Even if Kalm is just a few hours away, weʼll need to stock up on some items,” he explained to them, listing down a few to start: potions, ethers, coffee. 

“Chips!” Prompto added, hand shooting up. 

“Not on my watch, Prompto,” Ignis declined, listing down _medicines_ instead. 

“Ignis!” Prompto slapped his hands on the plain plastic table as he leaned forward. “But what kinda road trip doesnʼt have chips?!” 

“Road trip?” Ignis glanced at him. 

“Promptoʼs still thinking about the Chocobo Farm, I guess,” Noct explained after rejoining them. “That was Dad. We just caught up.”

“Which reminds me, I still need to tender my resignation,” Ignis mumbled. 

“If weʼre going on a road trip, then we better get some camping gear, too.” Gladio reached for the pen and the list. “Iʼll put them down.” 

“ _Ooooh_ , camping under the stars!!” Prompto swooned, dancing and bouncing in his seat. As if they hadnʼt missed sleep and dinner and now subsisted on instant coffee, cup noodles and cheap rice cakes. But the smell of fresh air, far from the mako burning, could get addictive. 

“Uh…Iʼd much rather we go somewhere near a real bed, thanks,” Noct groaned. 

“Hey, look at it this way, beds cost money.” Gladio pointed the back of the pen at the man. “But once you buy a tent and a few sleeping bags, youʼre set for life!” 

“What about food?” Noct raised an eyebrow. 

“One thing I learned after I left Midgar?” Gladio proceeded to list down his ideas. “No matter how dried up the ground is, nature always provides.” 

“W, wait,” Noct straightened up all of a sudden, “y, youʼre not gonna feed us roadkill, are you?” 

“Not if I can help it,” Ignis protested, glaring at Gladio. “Certainly there should be no difficulty in looking for proper ingredients for cooking food.” 

“You want us to get a grill?” Gladio offered. 

“How far are you guys planning to go, anyway?” Noct asked. 

“Well, it is simply that—” 

“You know what?” Gladio cut Ignis off, though he glanced at him. “Weʼre planning to go as far as Cosmo Canyon.” 

“Cosmo Canyon!!” Prompto cheered. 

Ignis blinked at him. “Now?” 

“Yeah! Didnʼt I tell ya?” Gladio nudged him gently with an elbow. “I got a baby sister waiting for us in Cosmo Canyon.” 

“Of course, I never forgot,” Ignis insisted with a slight frown. “But we had only been making preparations for Kalm.” 

“Noct has someone waiting for him at Wutai!”

“Wutai?” Ignis turned to the man across him. Wutai, that was a surprise! 

“H, hey—Prompto!” Noct clicked his tongue and hissed at his best friend, baring a bit of teeth at him. 

“What?” Prompto whirled at the man who was eying him into silence. “Donʼt you wanna see Luna?” 

“What—o, of course, I do!” Noct was resembling the look of a tomato when he shifted in his chair, trying to look disaffected though he only ended up pulling out something of a more defensive stance. “You donʼt have to announce it, though…” 

“Luna is quite a lovely name.” Ignis smiled. 

“Who is she? Your ‘baby sisterʼ?” Gladio grinned at Noct beside him, relaxing with his cheek on his fist. 

“No, sheʼs just,” Prompto started to cackle, “his baby!” 

“Shut up!” Noct was positively beet red now, earning a hoot and a playful nudge on his arm from Gladio. Wutai—now there was an interesting location. A distant land where…everything had started. The war, those refugees, the murder, this…

Could they actually go that far? Well, they were already out there, werenʼt they? 

Ignisʼ eyes fell on the list. He pulled it towards him and added another item at the bottom:

_World map_.

—

“Callʼs done.”

Arms crossed, Ignis looked over his shoulder to catch Gladio coming from the comfort room, twisting his neck sideways. 

“Finally got through to Jared. Told ‘im to start packing and get his folks out of Midgar. It wonʼt be safe for them there now.”

Ignis nodded. “Good, then.” 

“Well, so much for a honeymoon for us. Turned out to be a family trip, huh?” Once behind him, Gladio slipped his arms around Ignisʼ waist and planted his lips to his temple. It always made Ignis smile when he did that. 

They stood at the front of the convenience store, waiting for some orders to be brought out in a box. “A family trip?” Ignis chuckled, turning his head to his boyfriend. “I didnʼt sign up to look after two children, Gladio.” 

“Yeah? Well, what are they talking about?” He indicated his question with a nod to the fueling station across them. Noct and Prompto were on the backseat of the car while the top was down, feet on the leather. Between them, they held the map sprawled out, looking for… 

“Gold Saucer.” Ignis nodded, conceding to his point. 

“What did I say, huh?” Gladio grinned at his point being made. “In all seriousness, though, you okay with this?”

“Hm?” Ignis raised his brows, shifting a little in his boyfriendʼs arms to better look at him. “You mean being out here with you? And not in there where everyone is trying to kill me left and right?” 

“Kinda,” Gladio chuckled. “Weʼll only be staying in Kalm for two days tops, and then weʼll be on the road since. Not saying itʼs a hard life through and through but it ainʼt gonna be easy. We wonʼt even have a permanent address, anymore.” 

Ignis nodded, stepping out of his embrace to take both his hands. He gazed up to those amber eyes, bright as the gold of fire in the light of dawn. “But weʼll have each other. My heart is set; married or not, I will remain ever by your side, Gladiolus Amicitia.” 

Words that made Gladio smile, his eyes sparkling, a promise of brighter days ahead. No, _a vow_. “Married or not, I do, Ignis Scientia. I very much fucking do.” Words that made them laugh. 

His kiss was warm and sweet like honey on Ignisʼ lips. This was the taste of freedom, he thought, parting his lips to draw breath so he could kiss Gladio again. He felt his beard and his scar under his fingertips, let Gladio pull him closer in his arms. This was how life was supposed to feel. Safe, his heart full, his senses awake. 

If this was what awaited him in the future, then Ignis was ready for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i just had to put in a little _crazy motorcycle_ for the bros XD and on that note, thanks ever so much for joining me for the ride!! ❤️❤️❤️ this has been a really interesting experience for me so im really happy for the opportunity you guys gave me to indulge myself :333 i'm off to new (AND SHORTER i used to be able to write shorter idk what happened ;o; ) wips so here's to hoping i get to see you guys on there, too! o/// 💕💕💕

**Author's Note:**

> lol so i literally wrote this just for the sake of the premise and bc ff7 is my most favorite game ever so i'm kinda really excited for this au. happens around the timeline of the midgar episode of ff7r so i'll be making use of some npcs but no mentions of the main cast. 
> 
> at the same time, this is gonna be a bit of an experiment for me bc this is the first ongoing series i'll be doing with no solid outline ( _Hand and Shield_ for instance is already finished, i'm just cleaning it up a bit before i post the chapters) and only a vague collection of scenes to guide me along and i wanna see how my brain caves under the pressure lol. 
> 
> anyway i hope you enjoyed reading this chapter inasmuch as i enjoyed writing it! let's see how this goes but i'm determined to finish this (ง •̀_•́)ง (i rarely don't finish my wips anyway)
> 
> have a good day!


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